Movement. A constant moving in and out of the fear, limitations and fully expressed desires. It ebbs in and flows out like the wind on the sea. Like the storm of your heart.
Never subtle love teases all of the senses. It liquefies your body and smooths out the jagged edges of being human. It hypnotizes your stagnant mind and quickly unlocks the treasure trove for pleasure. For longing connections. For mysteries to be solved.
Love is anything but still. It's a hurricane and a darting plummet into the abyss. It tangles your throat and forces you to swallow the venom of trepidation. It takes all prisoners and exposes their greatest weaknesses. The feeble hearted and the closely guarded it makes no judgement.
Love hijacks the weary. It is a pirate in a land full of shipwrecks. It plunges through and ruffles feathers and leaves the victim gasping for breath. The beating of the heart a maniacal wizard keeps pulsating when the physical body prefers to be buried. Too hard, it groans. Too hard to love this way.
The love of self. The love of the other. The love of the whole. It all bleeds together to make up what love is. A motion in the forward. The becoming of one self. The becoming of a pair. The becoming of the Universe.
It happens in great movements. In great gusts of wind after the slumber has been aroused. Love doesn't stay still in a simmering pot. It boils and erupts. It causes chaos in the soul and awakens the long sleeping. It enlivens the cells and perpetually transforms each being, self, coupled and whole into the highest realms of knowing and not knowing. It is the dance of life, the elixir of living. Fully. Grandly. Outrageously.
Love in the corner is only awaiting the one, the self, the whole to light it up. When love saunters in, when it whispers hello take heed and welcome it in. Of the self and of the other. Let it take retreat in your heart and feel the walls open in succulent motion. In the most obscure ways.
Let it palpitate your veins and allow it. Allow it to move you...