Musing on Love.

Unexplained magnetism lingers in the gut. The familiar letters of his name leave you smiling. Perhaps the gut is like your personal orb, predicting a murky future. For some reason, he is the immediate thought, and you imagine your heart flooding. Does the storm wreck everything in its path? Or is it monsoon season – periodic downpours for months on end. You wonder if love is a consequence of the brain rebuilding from disturbance. A glitch in the system (asserts the engineer). A phenomenon of poetic genius (says the writer). A diagnosis fiasco! (exclaims the physician).  

When “the one” entered your life, did his gaze rest on yours, before he himself realized why. Was he lingering in the background all this time, a chaotic life you hardly noticed. Did both lives need to break and rebuild before pieces of each other’s wreckage was shared? Was love born from a reconstruction: lay the foundation (stronger this time), set the rough framing, complete the drywall, finish the interior trim. Did you create house before its literal manifestation? Find home in a warm body, that often snores from an obstructed nasal airway?

When “the one” stood before you, was your gut glowing red. Did it try bumping against you, screaming, just tell him already. Did you discount the magnetism as silly infatuation, resisting its pull? Instead of blatant declaration, did you slip into disguise just to hear his voice. Embody a veiled face that hid blushing cheeks.  

When “the one” said i love you, did you say it back. Was i love you too at the tip of your tongue, so natural and familiar. Did the words linger in the space between.

Behind those steady eyes, do you see the depths of his character. How past and future collide.   like meteor shower.   lightning.      riptide.

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