Out there in the world we encounter all shades and shapes and flavors; and the variety might be tempting if one fails to recognize the value of what‘s right here…

Right here

In my heart

I know

I have all I need.

I have you.

Deep and dark and true

Intense, complex,

Sometimes tannic, sometimes sweet,

Layered, luscious, ambrosial, complete.

Sumptuous and scrumptious,

 Exceptional,

Delectable.

I take you

Into every inch of me.

~ Heaven ~

Hold on!

This passion, this obsession, this commitment to the “we “

Promises to be

Sensual, artisanal,

Synchronously bittersweet.

A love affair.

Or a box of chocolates.

*Both collages were made entirely of chocolate packaging and Sharpies©

We take it all so literally. Let’s consider the story metaphorically, universally…

It’s iconic.

Ironic.

This repeated passion play.

I could prostrate myself,

Allow your scourge to freely flay.

It would not be enough.

You’d come back another day.

Angry.

I could struggle through the darkness

Of our shared Gethsemane,

Let you revile, defile, deny me.

It would not be enough.

You still would fail to see.

Resentful.

I could walk to Golgotha,

Accept your jabs and barbs,

Wear your crown of thorns.

It would not be enough.

You’d still want more.

Vengeful.

I could climb the mount to Calvary,

Hang there upon the crux,

Naked, mocked and doomed.

It would not be enough.

You’d rub salt in my wounds.

Righteous.

It’s useless, this processional, repeated passion play.

Then, Aha!

Perhaps the change to make’s not yours,

But mine.

Okay…

I’ll completely shift my focus.

Look inside.

My will be thine. ‡

*Footnote:  Here’s the thing… I let it, allowed it, chose it. Freely. Now that’s ironic.

Regarding LOVE. Words from Wikipedia:

“Studies have shown that brain scans of those infatuated by love display a resemblance to those with a mental illness. Love creates activity in the same area of the brain where hunger, thirst, and drug cravings create activity. New love, therefore, could possibly be more physical than emotional.”

Ha!

That explains it.

The Heartache.

Did we not break through?

To intimacy?

I loved you.

Crazy love, mad love, heart-racing glad love.

Smiling at the thought of you.

Butterflies when a text came through.

Sweet goodnights, raucous hellos,

Attraction, passion, bedfellows.

Reckless abandon, a jangle of words.

And limbs

And whims

And nerves.

Fear stepped in.

The end.

I loved you.

I thought you loved me too.

Was it true?

…

Coward!

Inspired by Three Word Wednesday…Heartache, Jangle, Reckless