What is love?

Defining or labeling something
means restraining it
or not allowing it to express itself.

You call a cat, a "cat",
which creates a boundary:
a cat can never be you
and you can never be cat;
the cat might express itself freely,
but for you, it's the "cat" who is doing it,
not someone like you or not even a part of you.

Love transcends these boundaries - 
boundaries of labels, boundaries of naming,
syntaxes of rules and humor of blaming.

Love sets myself out from the current context 
where I am supposed to act on rules - 
love allows myself to be, to be creative 
and to feel free.
On top of that, love sets myself on a journey:
on a boat without a roar,
sailing on an ocean - warm yet rough.
Each second brings me more warmth,
and more struggle to feel more warmth.
This warmth comforts me 
yet asks me something in return -
myself, my whole self 
to submerge into the moment that is now,
to know tricks, details, concepts, knowns
of the equation that I love more than anything else;
an unknown is what is hidden there in the ocean,
it's there but hidden. I am not an discoverer but a hunter.
Maths is not a discovery, but an invention.
You hunt for the tools while feeling warmth.
You use them then to invent something, 
only to realise that that invention might mean
something else to someone,
but for you it doesn't mean anything -
it lies there, open, alone and afresh,
waiting for someone to come by and just see it.