Like something of you etched on my heart

Love like waves like air like clouds like hot espresso like electricity like a lesbian, like stars like night like trees like sand like mountains like teardrops like linen like paper like wood like silk like satin like fire like laughter like folding wings like beauty like explosions like history like science fiction and fantasy like yesterday and today tinged with now, like an audition, like a rehearsal, like a spotlight like winning like sinking down into the water in the bathtub, like a cupcake like birds on wires like stones smoothed by time, like the space between yes and no like a song that never goes away. Like something of you etched on my heart.

But if I close my eyes, there’s more:

Love like questions with no answers, like breakfast, like driving fast, like a cactus forest, like fog hanging on a bridge, like wind, like sunshine beating down and sucking moisture out of the air, like pixels like bits like pieces of the whole, like myths like memes like filthy lucre like dust in the corners, like a favourite story, like watching an old movie like an angel pinned to a bulletin board like the moment between sleep and awake, like fingernails marking skin, like a mid-day call full of words ears want to hear, like driving beside a rainbow, like a bite into an apple, like melting chocolate like the ocean sucking in its water, like a tidal wave, like soapy hands, like puppies like tigers, like walking over the treetops, like spider silk, like energy and mystery. Like something of you etched on my heart.

But, maybe — just maybe — if I open my mind, I’ll find more and more:

Love like sinking into sleep, like falling into dreams, like being edited, like a slow, shy smile like a moment like an inexpressible not knowing, like walking alone in snow like footprints at the shore of the lake, like fingertips touching, like stepping into a painting, like being a sculpture, like sailing into the night, like looking to the moon, like that sharp intake of break, like waving to Orion, like a bite of a Habanero pepper, like a photograph like a hero’s journey, like drawing an arrow in its bow, like acting like traveling through the universes, like bass C, like prime numbers, like sugar cubes, like that first taste, like a wish coming true, like the pulse of emotions left in an empty room like a mirror that shows your soul like frankincense and myrrh mixed with parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. Like something of you etched on my heart.


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About FS

Toronto, Canada. Writing about slices of life, the moments and minor details of which come into awareness or out of imagination and the spaces inbetween. On hiatus from writing ... at least for now.
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7 Responses to Like something of you etched on my heart

  1. makingspace1 says:

    Holy smokes that’s good stuff there…

  2. bartolum2 says:

    I like.

  3. valerie says:

    Beautiful… the cadence lingers… long after the last sentence…
    Perhaps love, once etched, never stops pulsating to the rhythm of the universe?

  4. terrisitagg says:

    Like I love this. When you write I hear the lyrical magic of the deepest part of a souls sound.
    Reading these words is a multi-sensory experience, and it takes a breath away. Thank you.

  5. bookishbutch says:

    I could feel, hear-the cadence. 🙂 Love the picture, even in times of ruin, destruction, or just plain
    re-building, there is Love-sigh

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