They say that love is built on many a thing:
Trust, connection, sacrifice and whatnot.
Nothing could be farther from the truth.
Love is there first, before anything else.
It strikes you from nowhere like a bolt of lighting.
And not even Einstein could rationalize it.
Trust, respect and whatever else...
These things can nurture love,
reveal more about its depths.
But everyone knows
that even in their absence, love can still exist.
Because love is there before anything else.
It is the metaphysical truth of the universe.
The thing that keeps stars and black holes in their orbit.
And to it we are forever slaves.

(I took some inspiration from "so you want to be a poet?" by Bukowski)