You cannot quantify love.
It could be the brisk morning and the dew;
That is love to a lemon.
Cool and cooling,
Droplets on its yellow sweet skin.
You cannot quantify love.
It could be that heap of shit;
That is love to the beetle.
Stench and stinking,
A honey like, sweet taste.
You cannot quantify love.
It could be razor sharp to a wrist;
That is love to another.
Dripped and dripping,
Red pools of passion.
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It's a very difficult challenge to try to understand oneself and one's own mind. It's a difficult thing to do because you questi...
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Recovered skulls of the victims of the 1994 Rwandan Genocide in a display case in the Kigali Genocide Memorial. Photo: Arlana Shikongo Immig... -
...and here we are folks, calmly entering the final and most exciting month of the year. There has always been something about December. B...
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