Love ain’t for sale, well at least not the love I’m talking about
No, Love is free
Love is giving you the big piece of fried chicken, even though I could write you a 10-page research paper with works cited in APA format on how much I wanted that big piece of fried chicken
Love is knowing you will always been there when I need you
Love is calling you every Mother’s Day even if you didn’t birth me
Love is pulling me inside your house because it’s about to rain
Love is putting me on the program as the headliner, even though you knew I shouldn’t be allowed to be around a microphone in public
Love is never, ever, never taking off your #teamcrawley wristband even though there’s green mold starting to accumulate on your wrist
Love is what Christians are supposed to do
Love is what got me and my father through the fourth quarter of 2013,
Love is embracing that one cousin or one auntie you may not know very well with hugs, with their arms as bony as Skeletor or as big as Mean Joe Green, trying to figure out how in the hell would I know you from when you changed my diaper when I was 6 months old,
Love is taking you to school when you pretend to miss the bus in the morning even if I’m not too fond of your extracurricular activities
Love is that initial slow clap of rain, hitting a lonely tin roof with a slow pitter-patter in a small town in middle Georgia.
Love is not berating your grandson because he puts sugar on his grits
Love is easy
Love is good,
Love is great
Love is God, God is great
Love is a mutual attraction on site like a covalent bond between some hydrocarbons that can be your fuel through the day
But hydrocarbons are volatile
Love is volatile
Love is hard
Love is as ubiquitous as Everybody Loves Raymond and is as meandering as Everybody hates Chris
Love is rough,
Love is lead,
Love is nasty, spits out sulfuric acid, dissolving skin and bones
Love can be Christmas in the morning and Halloween at night,
Love is bland
Like, like, like that one Auntie who does not know how to season chicken
Love is a colorless, odorless gas that may keep you in eternal slumber
But love is asking if you made it home last night.
Love is me calling you back that I made it home last night.
Love is when I’m crying because you never made it back home last night. And you probably won’t again tonight
Love is cousin Sonia still checking up on me even though I evaded her hugs for 15 years
Love is cousin Allie Mae giggling and running away whenever I try to pick her up
Love is cousin Brandon buying me a PBR even though I didn’t want another PBR
Love is Audrey interrogating me about the last time I ate
Love is throwing the ball at my brother’s head whenever we played pick-up games and still talking to each other by the time dinner is over
Now love is something I have taken for granted
Like flipping on a light switch and expecting lights to come on or my Papa taking a hour to say grace
These are things that are SUPPOSED to happen
But not everybody has electricity, not everyone has a Papa was pageantry
Not everybody knows what it’s like to be loved by some receding hairline folks from South Boston
But I do, and I hope everyone else here knows what I speak of
That’s love
Now ask me about hate?
I ain’t got time for that
I don’t need to listen to K-Dot to know that Team Crawley is gon’ be alright
Because I’ve seen love in my Papa’s eyes as well as his three big-headed children.
Love is all I got,
Thank you for this you wrote this so well I felt every word
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