That First Crush of Love

That first crush of love

gripping your heart like a hand on an aluminum can

the clasp that issues forth a metallic pop

as sharp angles give new dimension in a mangled symphony

and you feel each squeeze on your heart expanding with a pressure

released by metal hitting the ground

its impulsive potion rising

the explosion that takes control of your every thought so much so that nothing seems to be ruled of its own accord

its ruled by the other and their very presence

and the only sounds are primal beats thrumming in your ears

and the exquisite sick feeling that roosts in your stomach

pecking at your appetite until the only nourishment you get is from the empty white noise carbonation

that threatens to overflow into every extremity like the head of a soda combusting and inching closer to the rim of the glass

and you can’t decide if you should lift the glass and protect the surface beneath it

or if you should just raise the glass to your lips and drink down the aerated foam

tasting the sweet below

And seeing that other

wishing, willing eye contact

and when your screaming internal voice gets heard

the meeting that lasts just a mere second

but in that fleeting stare exists admissions and revelations to rival the thick printed works of Melville and Tolstoy

and when you occupy shared space

the frisson sparking your nerves on delicious edge could supply the electricity to your whole town

and when you are the center of their attention

you want the world to fall away and the soundtrack of your favorite songs to play

because this is a true love story playing out

better than any script

And when you touch

fingers entwined with fingers

lips lost in lips

bodies fused together by a strength greater than a thousand braided spider silks

you want the clocks to stop ticking forward and the world to fall away once again

so no words, no force can slice through the here the now

and you’d be happy to share a confining studio apartment

because your love will make it feel like a spacious loft

but you’re not old enough to sign a lease

or you don’t have the money just yet

or it’s only been a day, a week

so instead you steal moments in a car, dark doorways, anywhere you feel like

because you feel free and freedom is love and to love and be loved in this very way is your God given right

your God damn right

…does that about sum it up?

E.A. O'Connell