You probably shouldn't read this

Well I suppose I'd tell you how your eyes turn so many shades of green 

there's not one I've seen
twice
But it's likely I'd over articulate
And start binding it up till the whole sentiment 

buckles under it's own weight
In much the same way this conceptual
In love
Gets hyper extended when handled in purely
Linguistic terms
It's an immense concept and when moved to
Reality
The gravity of being
In love
Rips apart beliefs and boundaries
I'd suppose being
In love
Is probably as dangerous as a thunderstorm
On the plains
Beautiful to behold
And exciting to be inside of
Easy to get swept away in
And sometimes shorter than we'd hoped
If I weren't so afraid of wishing for such things
I'd wish to be
In love
Like the first hurricane
of the season
Anticipation and suspense that has been
Building since the last summer ended
Barreling toward my coast
All the passion tangible as the humidity rises 

The pressure dropping in sync with my heart
As the tropical front appears on the horizon
The outer bands teasing me
Small brief storms that hint at the fury coming
Every downpour increasing in intensity
Drenching the entire reality
Soaking the roots of mighty oaks
As stout as my resistance to being
In love
And conspiring with the wind
To topple my inhibitions
As first they blow north to south
Then suddenly change direction
As the eye of the storm passes
I'd wish to be
In love
Like the storm that lasts for a week
Every day feeling like years
The power will go out on the first day
And being
In love
Will be a storm lantern
Casting shadows and leaving a soot ring on the ceiling
Like the dirty finger prints
that get left
on the walls and doorways
because we can't see them
In the dim light
love would leave it's stains
with style to remind us
We peek out the windows
of the house
trying to see what
didn't get tied down
in this storm of
In love
We'd stand on the porch wondering
if the water would
Crest the top stair and pour into the house
Being
In love
Would be the sound of the water lapping against the foundation 

splashing under the wood floor
Such a soothing sound hinting at danger.
Being
In love
Would be walking out
of that house before
it's flooded.
Knowing it won't flood and still wading into those waters
Letting the wind push the rain through
my clothes and the water carry me
towards the intersection
Feeling the roar
of the storm drains inside my chest
and the suction pulling on my legs
Being
In love
Would be that piece
of floating wreckage that
I'd cling to as the water rises
It would be that final surrender
to the storm of being
In love
as I float clinging to my fear
Finally giving up the struggle
against the storm
deposited on higher ground
surveying the wrecked landscape
All the wreckage wouldn't be ugly
but instead beautiful in it's arrangement
Patio furniture and Orphan garbage cans contorted into monuments of furious love
Flooded cars abandoned and filled with leaves wrappers and mud, like so many statues attesting to the futility of trying to escape being
In love
I wish to be
In love
The way the storm turns the waves
The same shade of green
your eyes turn
When you look at me
And I let myself believe
We could be
In love