my plea of love
I love you and it’s a phenomenon — a dangerous one, one that could destroy, that could burn the city down — I’m in love with the idea of you.
They say that true love hurts — and it does. Every time I desire you, a knife twists into my heart, thrusting into my soul, pulling my insides out. Your gaze traps me in this endless maze that leads out to an infinite horizon, a type of euphoria that I’ll never be able to fathom by myself. I know this is true love, just by the way it hurts, just by the way I enjoy it regardless.
I can’t help it, the way my mouth twists into an ugly grin when I think of you, the way my hands moisten, the way my pupils dilate. The way I lose all of my consciousness, like I’m basking in the cocaine of glory.
If love is a phenomenon, then you and I, we’re the northern lights, sprawling and spreading endlessly, idly, just for people to glance up and admire our presence, to gape at us in awe of our beauty, the way our bright colours blend seamlessly against the otherwise black, sullen sky. I’ll stand there like a statue, my back straight, my hand trailing along your lips, thinking to myself: you’re perfect, so perfect. You’ll be looking into my eyes, eyes full of soul, of joy, of love. Nobody cares, nobody actually likes us, but the sheer, astounding beauty of us stops them in their tracks, an unimaginable force urging them to pull out their phone, a sultry voice whispering in their ears, telling them that this is a moment to remember, a moment to keep in their camera rolls forever.
You and I, we’re perfect for each other — I just know it. I’ve thought of everything we can do, from the sunsets in the grainy sand to the nights getting drunk on cheap gin. I know how your body’s going to fit right into mine, the way your gaze’s going to melt into mine.
If only, if only you’d accept my plea of love; if only, if only you’d take my hand and go — we’d be nothing and everything, the end and the beginning, finiteness and infinity. We’ll fill in each other’s gaps, love and argue, cry and laugh, then rinse and repeat till the end of time. Time will spill away from our clenched fists, flowing through our hair into thin air. After a while, our fists will slowly unclench, letting time fly by us, because this is enough; this is infinity.
I don’t know who you are, where you are, but I desperately need you, you gaze, your love. I just know, in my mind, that you and I, we’ll be together, forever and ever, until the earth shatters and burns, and our love would be ardent and beautiful and painful all at the same time.
