They would come running to you Basking in your presence Hoping for reciprocation Wishing for completeness If love had feet, it would finally take a walk, because it only knows how to hide in little things, that sometimes I walk right/write past it without noticing. If love had feet, maybe it would have come home with me and make room in the living room Because the living room feels as empty as my mother's, "I love you." What I'm trying to say is If love had feet, I wouldn't mind if it stepped on me.
