What Love Makes

nothing is new invention:
no idea, no execution,
no word, nor deviation,
only love makes it feel so,

and nothing is so ordinary
that love cannot partner
to remake extraordinary,
for love makes you feel so;

new is nothing to love any more,
for it has seen it all move before,
going back and forth for centuries,
as we try to decipher its mysteries;

and everything is second-hand trade,
genes passed on from an archaic braid,
that same carbon inside of you is made
different only by what love makes of you.

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