By halves

Love is home. It is that inner peace. It is a soft, steady breath, a refreshing, playful smile. Love is toasty, sun-kissed cheeks glowing in the night. It is a shy, hearty giggle. And a gentle fire raging beneath the skin. Love is subtle, love is boisterous. And it does nothing by halves Love is a place of safe surrender. A stable hammock of sensible and silly emotions. It refuses to apologise for being, for it is too stubborn. And although it is bold, love is not conceited. Love would willingly pour out its heart. Because, it does nothing by halves. Love is a companion, a confidant. It is a seasoned dilettante that shape-shifts. It takes the form of water, fire, wind, a febrile touch or soft kisses. Not even unanswered love is prepared to submit in the presence of doubt. Love will not retreat, or be silenced. Because, love does nothing by halves. Love transcends time. It defies the years, ignores convention and dismisses stereotypes. Love sacrifices itself for love and extends itself brazenly. It will take on multiple roles, but love does not like to pretend. It asks only to be appreciated. Because, love does not love by halves. Love is confidence and holding hands. It is long conversations; spontaneous laughter, casual slow walks and patience. Love always waits its turn. And no matter its beginnings, love makes itself whole. Because love does nothing by halves.