i have this theory about love
and cupid
and i don't want to just
"fall" in love, like falling while ice skating,
or be hit in the heart by an arrow...
if cupid is out there,
he is not carrying a quiver of arrows
and a bow,
he's got a semi-automatic weapon.
a glock,
a nine millimeter,
and he's gonna beat you upside the head with it,
and i want to be pistol-whipped by cupid's nine.
love should leave a bruise.

being social.
flirting, entertaining, laughing.
looking up from under fluttering lashes.
cleaving dialogue with ginsu wit.
glancing over the shoulder.

going home alone.

the euphoria that comes from these brief encounters is ephemeral.
fleeting.
fake.
smoke and mirrors.
a trick of the light.

in the end my heart falls after leaping.
lands with a thud.

all is not lost.
the universe delivers.
the city shape shifts.
my heart snaps back like a rubber band.


i would write haiku
about being exhausted
but i'm way too tired.

outside the sky is absolutely astounding.
clear blue, tinged with orange in the west.
boundless. infinite.

inside i am feeling very day after.
something aches within me, though i can't pinpoint the location.
the source. the cause.

i know better, that's the thing.

i know that when your expectations are miles high
there's nowhere to go but down.
i know if it ain't broke, don't fix it.
i know if all else fails, read the directions.
i know when in doubt, ask questions.
i know you get what you need.

and still, i don't know.
i don't know what it all means,
where i'll end up, how i'll get there.
the road twists and turns and i can't see around the bend.
blind curves. speeding car.
ache where my heart should be.
and my search for meaning leads me to the weather channel.
unseasonably warm. record highs.
only one way to go from here.

outside the sky darkens, the colors change minute to minute.

inside my mood darkens, emotions change minute to minute.

you get what you need.

they say the temperature of the human body is 98 degrees.

what's the temperature of the human heart?

all that pulsing, pumping, throbbing.

angst and joy rushing through ventricles.

must be hot in there.

sure, i'm optimistic.
i'm also afraid of heartbreak.
when you jump into the water without looking first,
you can break your legs.

but love isn't like that.
love is not a choice,
love is not something you can scout out-
see if it's safe or not.

love is blind.
and deaf, and dumb.
love is autistic, manic depressive, with high cholesterol.
love is epileptic, with boils.
love is totally fucked up.
love is gorgeous.
a bruised lip, swollen from being sucked on.
a shoulder with bite marks in the skin.
a look from your lover in the night
across the landscape of sheets and pillows.
the look of desire,
the touch of someone who can't stop touching you.

i believe in it.
the strength of love.
the power of love
to conquer all.
to vanquish foes.
to clear up your skin.

just trying to figure out what to say.
just trying to figure out how to say it.

just trying.