When you say the word love, your tongue drops to the basement of your mouth,
and the space grows there in the middle, between your cheeks;
and your teeth catch on your lips for the most satisfying vvvvvvibration.
When you say the word love, you should be sitting hip to hip on a cement curb in July.
You should be eating Thai food in the living room--
you should be in that place where the stars are the brightest, to you at least.
When you say the word love, you should really, really say it.
You should save that word for the times when it is the only word that can possibly be.
When you say the word love, your heart just drops to the bottom of your heels
(and floats all the way back up).
There should be all of this space inside, new space carved out to make room for your new heart.
The words will catch on your spirit, for the most satisfying vvvvvvibration.
photo of Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward via