Like Waves, Like Steam, Like Ice Cream

Like Waves, Like Steam, Like Ice Cream
By: Beth Cortez-Neavel

I have forgotten, I think,
how falling in love feels:

When that wave
crashes over you,
unforeseen;
roaring at you out of nowhere;
a dark, wild power
smashing into you
while your back is turned
against the horizon’s sun.
(You had no warning
to catch your breath.
Your eyes are bright and wide and
your heart beats fast,
trapped in your chest.
Pesky goosebumps give you away,
prickling your arms.)

Maybe it’s the
soft steam
of a warm cup of tea,
anticipated;
a light, familiar longing
intertwining with your unkempt hair,
as you dip your nose
down above a gently held mug.
(You breathe in slowly,
your nostrils flared.
Your heart so softly,
steadily beating
as Earl Grey tendrils
dance loose with gravity
to kiss your chin and
curl up calmly,
hugging against your cheeks.)

Or, wait,
is it like that time,
when I was five,
and ate too much ice cream
greedily, shoveling
all of it in at once?
(and my brain froze
in icy rebellion;
and my heart burned
with indigestion;
and my bowels cried out,
full of regret!)

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