I want to love until my toes curl
and I “ugly smile”–all scrunched up eyes
and wrinkled nose
and too many teeth. I want to love
like an alt-rock anthem,
full of poetry everyone can feel,
even without understanding the words.
I want love like alcohol–
but like sobriety, because I want to love
knowing what I’m doing.
I want love like gravity:
not the fall, but how it anchors
so that I never fear the ground;
I am always steady.
I want to love like the seconds before 8pm
on December 2012;
or the birth of a child.
I want to love until loving is second nature.
I want to love.
I want to.