What does it mean to be in love?

Like shore to the ocean.

Bare feet walking the sand. Water licking your toes.

What does it mean to feel the wind in your hair, the caress of sunbeams?

Your hair like a lion’s mane, tumbling down your back.

You were young once, but is that it?

An infinitesimal grain of sand spun from the universe’s creative juices.

A picture of the stars.

Your voice echoing in the lost chamber of my ears.

Meeting your eyes. Locking gazes for the first time.

Sips of a nectar sweeter than wine.

Lips on skin. Peach hairs under the tongue.

A fire in the gait. Was it mine or yours?

Is it me I am in love with? Have been all along?

The thrumming of the heart, the fluttering of dove wings

when you call my name.


I searched every island, letting the muse come to me on winged insight.

You sat on the lonely rock before the sunrise.

The last star still visible in the fading night sky.

Her name is Venus, and she definitely is not a star.

Well, what is she, then? A planet, a goddess, an apparition?

Born from a wave, a pearlescent seashell.

She is the goddess of love.

Goddess? What goddess? Who believes in that stuff?

Are you becoming a materialist?

We are talking about love.

Everyone is a beginner here.

Being in love, sparking the fire.

A flame so bright my whole soul burns.

Every single time, in your arms I am a newborn babe, a little girl.

Butterflies fluttering in my belly.

Words tickle the imagination, alighting on fantasy.


What does it mean to be in love?

Following the veins in a golden leaf.

Arteries of energy. Rivers of life and power.

Galaxies of the mind.

Watching birds in flight. Freedom falling.

Fluid moving geometry in the sky. The choreography of a murmuration.

Walking on the shore. Watching the waves lick the sand.

Feeling naked and whole, simultaneously.

Feeling the burn, the desire. To be alive.

To touch and feel. Everything.


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