How does love come?

I’ve felt the scintillating pressure

converge on my spine,

knelt beneath an ocean’s weight

of dopamine not yet enshrined;

I’ve awoke with rose petals tapered across my eyes,

seen the world in pink hues, and knew

the last pedal would one day fall —

I’ve talked to the gods above,

and shivered as the wind blew past me.

The spark has come from conversations long past,

and a friendship that remained, and grew.

I’ve hungered for weeks, fighting the mounting pain

of not seeing you or being those rose petals in your eyes:

I’ve looked up; I’ve detonated my heart by accident

from seeing another human

with galaxies locked far behind her eyes,

knowing I was born to explore it,

the last frontier —

a voyage I never knew I could survive.

I’ve been lost in the clear blue sky,

dazzled by the clouds that take the shape of wales

and hearts, and the negative space a clear path

to the light beyond.

I’ve jolted with a start in the night

as the clear moon ripples through the blinds,

and I’ve felt the softness of its touch,

only remembering your touch from my dreams.

I’ve been numbed by substances,

I’ve drank till my liver drowned,

I’ve longed so deeply that I cried,

but now my eyes are dry

The love I lost, I find; I lose, I will find; I will Lose

but I will Try —

I will try to discover how love comes To Me.