What Love Feels Like I Suppose

What I think love feels like to me, I suppose.

Like a child’s face mashed up against the glass as it snows,
I suppose.

Like a dog burying all its bones,
Like the other side of the pillow,
I suppose.

Like the thorns on a rose,
Like a guy calling on all his bros,
Like the socks that warm all your toes,
I suppose.

Like an awkward wrinkle of the nose,
Like waving goodbye as someone goes,
Like hugs so hard you almost explode,
Like the lady who's Bible never seems to close,
I suppose.