October 19, 2008
By Dominique Briggs, Brooklyn, NY

Love is like the smell of Shaq on the bench the entire first quarter;
Its kinda not that bad;
Wish I could have that aroma again;
I remember when I did;
My mother hugged me and her hair was like scratchy towels after getting out of the jacuzzi;
It felt weird because I wasn't blinded yet;
But when I learned what love was everything was in brail;
This love thing was so powerful It made the unforgivable forgiven;
For instance my punk for a father lived up to his name when he cried and told my aunt he missed me;
If love could do that I'm sure It could move mountains and make rivers of tears;
But don't got to attached you gotta Velcro it;
Like sketchers because the string between Love and Hate is too thin too tie;
So its a feeling that's confusing so corneas cant decipher;
Love is blind

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