the love interest

so when reason rears its ugly head

s/he puts her/his hands over his/her ears &

shouts loud enough to drown out the

contrary opinion

that what s/he is about to do

just might be the stupidest thing that

s/he has done in quite a while,

but remembering back to when s/he was a

teenager &

wondering where all the experimentation went,

wondering where all the excitement went

which came from placing one’s hand on the burner

even though the fact that it may burn is very possible

indeed---

and then, like the calm that comes just after a car accident that

didn’t kill or maim (maybe just a few scrapes & bruises),

a deep breath & a sigh exhaled &

once more into the flames.

 

now,

s/he’s gotten under your skin &

now,

you can’t think of anything else &

now,

the sun rises & sets where s/he sleeps &

now,

you tap your vein every time s/he shows his/her face to feel that rush of adrenaline that only s/he seems to bring &

now,

you’re hooked (line & sinker) &

no one knows better than you that when s/he leaves,

it’s gonna be bad,

really bad---

but you’ve convinced yourself to believe the cliché that early new love always breeds within (“it’s better to have loved & lost than to have never loved at all”),

and when ruin comes

as the storm which always follows the calm,

you’ll have no one but yourself to blame

for such interest.