I’m not an intelligent lover. My romance isn’t practical, it’s not pragmatic. I love like stars, balanced by their own mass and their thermonuclear fusion. I’m desire restrained by – what- reason? The things you have to say out loud to make it make sense to another person? When I love we are all the heart of a dying supermassive star, everything around us becomes fuel for our gravity. You are drawn to us. The event horizon of us changes you forever. We’re the ever studied black hole. The ever compelling supernova. Enigmatic and Charismatic.
We’re the death you choose
I love , am loved, have been loved as if love is purpose. Everything else I’ve ever done is time and space made to devote to this. My mother is every thing you’ve ever seen and my father is every time you’ve ever felt it. It only makes that I am feeling, itself.
I, we-my lovers and I -, are not sensational. We are sensation itself. The children of space and time. We give it all meaning.
About the Creator
Tarik Murrell
A physicist learning to write.
I wrote a book! $10 and it's yours.
I want to eat from my writing. I feed it , so it can feed me.
Comments (1)
incredibly awesome. I never looked at love that way but I will from now on. what a beautiful piece of writing.