It is not cute. It is not cartoon drawings of infantilised animals and children.
It is not flowers.
If a heart is its icon it is not a sanitised chocolate box version of satin and lace. That is far removed from my visualisation. A real heart is far more apt as a symbol for my love - visceral, red, strong. Beating. Not pretty but oh so powerful.
Love doesn't skim the surface with ribbons and bows, it is embedded, a deep tug in the guts. It is the umbilical cord that binds us, a fusion of bone and flesh.
My representation of love is not going to win any beauty contests. My blood spattered vision does not fit into a sonnet nor look good on a fridge magnet. But it is sincere. And from the heart.