I am in love with pieces. A stunningly blue pair of eyes, a swirl of hair as they turn, the jaunty set of sunglasses on their head.
Calling it love is a bit much, I suppose, but I love and hate easily. Too easily. There are advantages to thinking with one's heart instead of one's mind, but there are just as many problems. I can see why some choose logic and science over intuition and magic, but I don't see the why of it.
It's not just sight that I'm in love with - it's the cool feel of someone's hand as I brush them accidentally, the clean scent of a person, the way they say a word.
It goes beyond physical attributes, though - it's a maternal arm stretched out to a lost child, a passion about a subject, a clever word, a quirk of personality. It's a feeling I get walking by them, a good vibe.
But no one person.
Just pieces, patched together.
Gods, what's wrong with me?
2 comments:
Your blog reveals a different side of you that I don't normally see. That's why I love writing. It reveals our inner selves, yes?
You don't normally see that? I apologize, I try to be consistently myself . . . maybe it's just the separation that leads to this?
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