Love is a persistent thing —
The marks it leaves
don’t wash off.

Though they may be masked
by conversation
or the lack thereof,
by things said and not said,
done and not done,

When the alchemic fumes clear
and the film of time burns off,
Love is still there

In the end, its indelible etching
replaces all the old forms
with its insistent truth.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 5, 2014