I have known its nature
sometimes it is hard
sometimes coy, innocent of pursual
but, mostly love is elusive
hiding in flickering shadows
cast by clouds overhead.
I gather you can know love
if only by its many faces.

Love is the harshest critique
shading light on the best and worst of myself
mainly, I know I don't know how to love.
For I am hardly patient
though mostly kind
but I am more than boastful
with your hand in mine.

You've told me about love
in the dishes already...