To The Laws of Physics And The Chemistry Between Us.

You know what I love about kissing her?

When she kisses me back.

When we’re pausing to catch our breaths,

And she looks at me,

As if she were in a trance.

She looks content.

Hypnotized,

Like a snake to a tune.

 

I love the feeling of her lips,

Smooth as the surface of milk,

It reminds me of home.

I love that she looks at me,

Like I’m the on she wants,

Like she too has found home in me,

Even though,

I am perhaps the worst kiss she’s had.

 

I love how tender she is with her love.

Her kisses aren’t desperate,

Forceful,

Gasping as if I were the oxygen she needed.

No,

It was more than that.

It was like she had gotten that ice cream she craved,

Every summer noon,

Satiating her need to balance the heat from the outside.

How typically like us,

Opposites attract indeed.

 

I love that ven though she knows,

I’m terrible at kissing,

And I’m babbling through,

Questions about if I’m doing it right.

She laughs to herself,

Asking me to shut up,

Pulling me in again.

Or that when we decide to give it a rest,

And are almost out the door,

She turns back only to let loose this sultry smile,

Pulling me in yet again,

And did I mention, kissing is not my forte?

But she didn’t complain, and did it all right.

 

She is the right to a wrong,

The angel to the devil,

We’re two contradictions,

In a big world of polarities,

Yet, we too mold ourselves to the laws of physics.

Opposites attract, indeed.

 

I am grateful to the laws of physics,

and the chemistry between us,

Pulling us,

Binding us,

millions, maybe trillions of atoms,

And hey, maybe even Biology,

For creating a relationship between us.

Surely, I can say,

From empirical research,

Opposites attract, indeed.

 

Dear Future Lover,

To describe the perfect kind of love,

Would be cumbersome,

But I for one,

Am a hopeless romantic.

 

The perfect kind of love,

Is discovering cute little cafes,

Down the street,

‘Round the corner,

Discovering old libraries,

The smell of old books in the air,

And stacked on the shelves,

Would be novels and memories.

 

The perfect kind of love,

Is holding hands,

As we walk along the shore,

The waves of the sea,

Teasing our toes.

Trying to avoid the rain,

But getting wet anyway,

Because where’s the fun,

In missing out ,

On the little adventures,

That come our way?

 

The perfect kind of love,

Is when,

That comfortable silence settles,

As the two of us,

With a book in hand,

Sit on the couch,

In an apartment we share,

Because sometimes,

All we need is a little space,

To forget about the world around us,

Letting our minds wander,

To a distant place– A land, far far away.

 

The perfect kind of love,

Is when,

There are days,

Where we just lay,

On the bed we share,

Day to day,

Our limbs entangled,

Our breaths in sync,

Basking in all our lethargic glory,

This, I crave.

 

The perfect kind of love,

Is rambling to each other,

Of our mutual passions,

You, taking the words,

Right out of my mouth,

And I, yours,

Because that,

Is how in-sync we’d be.

But rambling to each other,

Of our varied passions,

You learning to love,

What you never did, before.

And I learning of,

What I never knew before,

Because that,

Is how out-of-sync we’re allowed to be.

Because that,

Is what the perfect love is about;

There will be differences,

There will be similarities,

There will be distances,

But the perfect love,

Is when we cross those distances,

The spaces between us close.

 

Because, the perfect kind of love,

Is when at the end of it all,

You’re still there,

Sitting at the table we share,

Across from me,

And we’re giving each other,

That reassuring smile,

For we know,

Our love?

Not a war,

Not a hurricane,

Not a single disaster can tear,

Our beautiful, beautiful love apart.

What Is Love?

What is love?

I’ve never been asked that question before.

I never really thought of it, until that night

The day of our fight.

And I was okay for I felt no pain.

I knew we loved each other with all our might.

What is love? It is one that cannot be described.

It is perhaps when his warmth enveloped mine,

When he apologized.

That warmth that left me feeling so safe,

For I hadn’t felt safe in so long.

That same warmth, reminded me, that I belonged somewhere,

And that I hadn’t lost my safe haven.

What is love?

I’m not sure,

But I know enough to say,

That it is a feeling.

A feeling that’s perhaps the best,

I’ve felt in a while.


What can I say? Train rides bring out the romantic in me.