Did it Begin as Love?

There’s pash, this vivid infatuation, musing upon a countenance; that pivot image—that thrust of hearts—that liquid sweat; to feel at peace, this silent attraction, prior to mystic enchantment. It appears a dream, courting electric waves, that innocent feeling: singing in showers, divulging secrets, on course that magnetism. It’s but a vision, piecing parts, while partial to fancies. We take for pains, a petal for passion, a kiss to hold for lights: that inner magic, beyond description, that thing captured in particles: that flowing dress, that whispering necklace, those manikin legs—as perfect this dream, gazing at winded mane, with purposed to catch an earring. We feel amazed, charmed to cuddle, captive to a scent: those almond lotions; that faint deodorant; that mythic odor; as willing this caring—too soon for love, but dearly this chain of souls: musing to Aretha; burning dragon incense; or cooking turkey ground and vegetables;—a pinch of salt, a spoon of lemon, with a touch of cayenne pepper; this marvelous feeling, over something so simple, sipping a glass of garnet wine: this feud of pressures; this second of lotus land; that missive within; to utter a word, this proper inflection, as days swoop into a minute. It couldn’t be love, this study of souls—that concerned with irritations; to avoid such follies, as to think before speaking, charmed to chisel poetry—this faraway night, this candle as love, that furnace to blossom prose—as art this wealth, as something so simple, becoming this magnificent castle. We die this way, combing eyebrows, searching for reasons to retreat; if fair be life, this living luxury, forever this flute of favorites. It shouldn’t be real, arriving so early, if but to peek at mastery; where pictures form, abed with images, reciting certain verbs; as rich in actions, that gentle caress, as needing earth this amore: while frozen in time; while aging less; this flitting of spirits. It mustn’t be life, guarding with zeal, this instant moment; where air is soothing, afforded to souls, peering at mirrors this love.