A cliche question: What is love?
A skipped heartbeat
The butterflies in one's gut
Flushed cheeks hot to the touch
Trembling, sweaty hands poorly hidden in jeans pockets
The need to have and to hold one another
It seems like such a trivial question
When there are so many more that need answering
Whom do I love? Why do I love them?
Do they love me back?