I give my love wings.

Can we hope to unlove anyone? Even as a passing affection wilts and grows old on admiration and respect? Can we forget the history of its story as it came to look for each of us before, touching a toy, a heart, book, look, smile, tear, scent, tune and forevermore the grandeur of a scene and kiss?

What did we send for its journey as love passed on in the way it had once arrived, masquerading puppets & heartbeats for a sentiment?

What did we pack in its farewell luggage for a memory? A wound of blood or a sparkle of ripples for a prism?

One day, that sweet-smelling love may visit unexpectedly. Catch us in a cafe, sipping latte, and throwing our heads back for a laugh. Or spy us at a party and watch diligently as we pass an old street, turn a familiar corner, catch a remembered name...

And then as it comes to tap us gently on the shoulder, tears start up from nowhere. Today may hold yesterday in a tight fix, unwilling to let go. So perhaps we should give it wings and not let its kiss be caught stranded anywhere.

I give my love wings and I say go.

Can we ever hope to unlove anyone or anything? No, maybe not. But perhaps, we can walk away finally with borrowed smiles from the sun.