A wedding poem

Love is not a destination. It is a journey.

It is a journey filled with highs and lows, laughter and tears.

Love is knowing that someone will always be there with you,

That your spirit will never be lonely.

Love is a beautiful ocean

Whose depth can only be known by diving deep into it.

That's what love is.

Love is a majestic snow-capped mountain,

Glistening like a jewel swaddled in rainbows.

Love is a fire that burns with a passion

Of lust and fear.

Love is a treehouse filled with hopes

And homosexual experimentation when you were ten years old.

That's what love is.

Love is everywhere.

But it's not in the trunk of my car, because that's where I keep every stick of deodorant I've ever used.

Love is a long, complicated riddle,

The answer to which is inside the prostitute's stomach.

Love is a puzzle

That reveals a picture of a cartoon ostrich vomiting on you.
That's what love is.

Love is that old pair of jeans you will never throw out

 Because you pulled them off a dead carny.

Love is a river flowing to a mystic land

Where they will never, ever find the body.

Love is a mirror for your soul

Which reflects your own blackness back at you, as if you had created a beam capable of projecting pure darkness where there was once light and drowning all things pure in a sickly pool of despair, cutting swaths of misery through a birthday sky.

That's what love is.

Love is a wolf

That howls at the moons of Mars in the year 2392 when we equip the Earth with a planetary rocket system to escape the Sun's gravitational pull and travel the universe looking for alien pussy.

Love is a carousel of wax horses made to look like dead presidents

That turn and bob to the sounds of Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam.

Love is the smile of a child

Who is not a child at all but a shaved autistic monkey.

That's what love is.