one month down. 23 to go.

the meandhim is a foreign thing to me.

i never before loved anyone the way that i love him
before him, love was always right from the start,
more of a determination -- i'm going to love this person
so i do.
and it would ebb and flow
up and down
but at a steady, calm pace.

then, it would shrink
and shrivel.

with him though
it's an ascent.
to more.
slowly at first
gradually at first
unsure
happy, but carelessly unsure

but then there became more and more trust each time i held his hand
my hand seemed to fit more surely into his

my hand resting more surely on his chest
feeling for his heartbeat

desperately grasping at first
listening with my palm.


now
with him
love is different

once my hand got comfortable--
accustomed to his rhythmic beat
the contractions

the inhales and exhales of his heart--
the slow-paced steadiness i'd always known vanished.

the love doubled.
it tripled on itself.

like running up a hill--
my legs burn
i'm out of breath

my heart won't slow
the atriums and ventricles expand
and expand

i can't see the top of the hill
of our ascent
and i don't even care to look.
maybe there isn't a top

(my cynicism melts to hope)

i keep running up
faster and faster
i love him more with each leap

and keep drinking the more.
he gives me the more
i keep letting it expand and pulse


i don't need to understand the meandhim.
it is foreign.

the meandhim just is.
and it's right.