On Love, part two


I've spent a considerable amount of time thinking about Love and the tools that are readily available for me to define, describe, and express it. Because I'm me, a freckled & sometimes bespectacled Riddler, I keep asking myself these questions:

  1. How do we write about Love?
  2. How do you know what your Love looks like?
  3. How do you define it?
  4. How do we assign words to it without diminishing it?

I've riddled myself into insomnia and the bottoms of two boxes of cookies and my sugar-shaky ass is no closer to clarity. In moments like this, I tend to grasp at simplicity for the sake of comfort, but that would do a disservice to the bigness of Love and the practice of exploring my mind & heart.

I trick myself into thinking I need The Answers.

I trick myself into believing that a definition is anything but a 3x5 Polaroid of the entire Universe.

I don't use a camera to see the stars, and I don't use a telescope to discover the laugh lines on the face of a lover.
Maybe the questions are important, and maybe they're not.


Sometimes words see shadows.
Sometimes a camera speaks when a sentence fails.
Sometimes the sound of plucking strings gives you light.
Sometimes the quick-quick-slow of a body is a story.