damn this inability for us not to be able to define the perfect quality of life.
I want to know what love means.
and no… i probably dont need you to show it…. like some trusty 80’s song, always there when you reach out your bedazzled hand.
More so, i want everyone in the room to say what it is to them, like we’re simultaneously introducing ourselves to the party, to let the room momentarily fill with a cacophony of our meanings, and let the essence of our words, casually float … to the – ground? like a cool, calming honest repose? or will it rise to the top, like a heated fleshy cry of emotion.
Is it emotion? But like an emotion as instant and defined as a 10 inch splinter through your foot? Piercing and coasting, in and out and through. I’ve been there. I screamed. I felt it and it was real. I could point at it, while I sucked on the happy gas, whilst the ceiling took a woosey jaunt. I could point at it – like emotion – like sad, happy… or deliriously tired….
Is it insincerely casual? It sneaks up on while you were looking for the aisle with the eggs, opens it’s overcoat and Bam- theres the giblets of love; or like it’s lost in a hedge maze between the dead end and the hanging angel face, listless and smiling in some sprinkler fun?
Do you just know or not know, my Yoda friend?
And it’s as simple as that?
And how the hell is it always stronger the next time? Like last time… you thought you had defined love… and then days go by, and you travel a little, relax a little, work a little, see a little, just be a little, and all of a teddy bear, caught unawares, sudden moment, there it is… saying – you thought you knew me??? Ha! pffft. then check this…. and bowls you over, literally… off your feet…. as they say …. in those cheesy movies to which i twitch…. and how does that work for those sweet stories of first love rekindled? (insert hilarious joke about some kind of kindle-friendly digital love story release, just to keep up with the young-uns…)
Then does that mean “it” will keep on happening? …as Saturn revolves, or the one they used to call Pluto tangoes his moves about? Until there at the end you’ll see me, fading into light, as my particles transform into stardust at the end of the dark, black night… having thought I couldn’t have made it, I will be there, fading strong, laughing hauntedly at you all- ha, I found out what it was.
I love a great deal many things. And I’m in trouble for blarneying the word around. Just cause I can l o v e the look in a puppy dogs eyes, and l o v e the sound of your quiet in-drawing breath, means shit all to the puppy dogs heart, when he looks into my eyes.
“It” sit here in my hearts dictionary…
simultaneousouly defined, and undefined.
I have not the answer.
But I think I’ve got the time.