There are a lot of ways for something to be messy.
Baking can be messy in the way that
Ingredients end up on your fingers.
Animals are messy in the way that they
Track mud in, and shed, and eat sloppily.
Rooms are messy in the way that they
Are filled with clutter in corners and piles and shelves and drawers.

Love is messy in all of these ways, and yet also, none.
Love is messy in the way that
I leave trails of kisses across your neck and face,
With the wet imprints of my lips pressed into your skin.
Love is messy in the way that
Our hair gets tangled from our cuddles,
Constantly switching positions because our cuddles are never boring.
Love is messy in the way that
Tears track down your face, and spill onto my hands.
My lips taste salt as I kiss your tears away,
Promising to you that everything will be okay.
Love is messy in the way that
You text me repeatedly, waiting for my response, and then call
Because the worry for my safety grew too strong.
Because you took the fire away but the flame can still burn.

Love is messy in the way that
It takes so many radiant forms.
Our love cuts deeper than bedrock, yet
Slices not through the lace veil.
Our love is eternal, but our
Lovers' tale ends before the courtship begins.
Love is messy in the way that
If it isn't romantic, nobody understands
That I can't love anyone more and you less
Just because you're my best friend
And I'm yours.

Love is patient, love is kind,
But really, what love is, is
Messy.
At least,
Our love is messy.
And it's beautiful that way.