I can't smell it
I can't touch it
If I try to grab it
It will escape through my fingers
Teasing me with memories of it
It is not meant to be seen
I can't taste it
I might have heard it in your
Voice
But I can't say for sure
I feel it
Though
Strongly
Deep within
It ties me to you and
You to me
Its flow
Excites me
Frees me
Upsets me
Saddens me
It insists on its presence
Like a little child then
It withdraws
Making me
Doubt my sanity
on love
in poetry