Inspired by the heart of another- the passion for living pushed into the physical realm, so that one being may share his or her idea with millions- an idea which flowed through the body in its finest moment, alongside the desire to capture that idea in time- and love is made. Love, for the ear, for the eye, the nose, or the mouth- a group of mothered senses each carefully connected to the heart to stir a leavening eruption of joy, alongside the desire to create and share that love, with millions.
Prepare a delicate meal and tender its taste, so my mouth may take joy in the world of earthly buds melting amongst the corners below my tongue.
Write a simple song, with a simple beat, and tap the pads of my youngest and oldest feet.
Film the streets, the sun rolling over, find the tune of story- and show it to me.
Oh, this world of people- living in the garden of life, tell me-
It’s a biochemical thing. The your body releases dopamine, norepherine, and phenylethylamine. Also levels of seritonin drop, and, if you’re a man, more testosterone is produced. This creates a mild euphoria.
Well, it’s probably more complicated than that. I’m sure there are biochemists who can give you a better answer. But moods are generally about neurotransmitters and hormones.
It’s the worst addiction there is. The highs are better than any drug I can buy, because I know that with my beloved by my side I can accomplish anything.
The withdrawal is unbelievable too, because I can’t go out and score enough to get me well again.
In my case, love came from Canada. Apparently he migrated down to Oklahoma because he was seeking warmth. My lovebird found a willing heart in the torrid torpor of my trembling torso, and there he made his happy metaphorical home.
That was 25 years ago. My Canadian wild goose, my love, has stayed with me all this time, probably because I have fed him well, complained to him seldom, and never clipped his wings for fear that he would fly away.
