I Think It Is Love
I Think It Is Love It is a singular feeling to have eyes fall upon you, and to know you have been seen in full. There is no wall that can hide the fluttering heart. ( Her ) gaze has unraveled me – stretched my skin from end to end, wrapped my heart and lungs in a bow of my veins. There’s not a facet of me that isn’t laid bare. Thick as blood, its life- force permeates the moments when we hold staring contests. Do you hear the strings swell as the Second Waltz trots into view? At once magic and melancholy – my ribs are all that keep my leaping heart from jettison as my fingers interlace hers. Here Time has no bounds. I live every innocent embrace, every generous laugh, every brushstroke and brushed string, every make-believe wrestling match and ceaseless teenage spat. I live them all at once. I think it is Love. I don’t know what kind. But that singular word: crowned wit...