My Night With Love

as a matter of fact

‘Let’s fly paper airplanes on top of the cabinets. They can be love letters for the next owners to find — a kind of time capsule,’ Love said with those trenchant eyes that reach to the depths of your soul and demand your full presence.

‘Wonderful,’ I reply as my eyes shift to those adorable soft wrinkles at the sides of her eyes. They bring a smile to my face because I can feel in my heart all the smiles that brought them here.

And so we scribbled our love onto planes,

With the hearts of the unknown as our aim.

This is our last night together before Love takes her heart back home. This thought makes my own heart drop a bit. So, I pause a moment to reflect:

‘I know how much Love brings to my life. So, of course, I want Love to spread. And besides, Love can never really leave me, nor can Love ever really be mine.’

This reflection helps my heart feel buoyant again. So, I put dwelling aside and blanket her with my heart and attention.

After a few poorly crafted airplanes from each of us, I notice Love making something peculiar. I make a few guesses and go back to my own engineering project. Soon she slides the finished origami into my view.

It’s a heart with the inscription ‘This belongs to you.’

I look up and see the deepest sincerity in her countenance. My mind is a soft, open sky that holds all the intimate words we’ve shared. My thoughts are a meadow of flowers reflecting their color, their light of understanding, from the sun above. My heart, a diamond forged from the weight of her love.

I feel something colossal churning from deep within. Then, a magmatic eruption of love, warmth, and connection bursts through every surface of my being.

Every corner of my spirit is full. But the love within me still needs room. It begins to seep out of my eyes and then crosses the bridge of her gaze, where our spirits merge into something that no words can describe. And so,

With a subtle sway at her hips

I kiss her gently on the lips.

As we wind down the night and climb into bed, we kneel and face each other. She holds my hands in hers and asks, ‘Have you ever felt so much love in your hands.’

‘No,’ I reply, as water fills my eyes.

Love says she can’t wait for me to hold my first child. She knows how much children mean to me. And Love herself knows the weight, the boundlessness, the reverence, of such love. My eyelid finally overfills and a tear runs down my cheek.

We softly draw our foreheads together. With my thumb securely behind her ear and my fingers wrapped gently around the back of her neck, we soak in the moment, softly brushing our faces together. It paints a smile on my mind and warmth in my heart.

I wished only permission to feel and to be felt.

Thanks for leaving a mark on my flesh.

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