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 Apr 2014 Conor O'Leary
Brynn
It is a known fact that:
Humans are born with two fears,
The fear of falling
And the fear of loud noises.

The fear of falling in love
And the fear of saying "I love you"
I want to escape to an uncharted star
And be held by his Galileo eyes,
Unravel his smile and learn the secrets between his dimples,
Like the spaces within Orion’s Belt.
I want to witness the aurora of color:
The atmosphere changes when he laughs with me.
I want to sail into space -
The space where his eyebrows furrow -
And ease all his cosmic pains.
I want to use my telescope to locate his greatest dreams and
Become an astronomer just to help them become reality.
I want to observe the meteor shower in my heart
When his hands close around mine.
Capture the silence of his parted lips,
When he lies next to me under the darkening sky,
Notice all the beauty that whispers to me.
I want to orbit his soul
And hope it carries me somewhere warm -
Because I cannot stop this force,
This gravity
That holds my astronaut heart to his.
 Apr 2014 Conor O'Leary
Brynn
Cosmos
 Apr 2014 Conor O'Leary
Brynn
We are star stuff -
You and me
We are made from the heavens exploding in violent arrays of energy
We are the left over particles from the birth of the stars
We are the Milky Way
and the moon
We are bright and brilliant constellations
We twinkle, we orbit , we shoot, we collapse , we fall , we die
We become star stuff
We are the air and the trees and the oceans
We are the salt in the tears of lost lovers
We are the wind in the hair of the explorers  
We are the ground under the wanders
We are sky for the observers
We are the stars for the lost
Before I begin, allow me to explain,
I too loved.. once,
so think of me not as some cynic-
nor as a master in the ways of love-
but rather as a keen observer-
now, that may mean I have nothing to offer you-
no insider knowledge-
no secrets of love-

But I do  know how to tell a true love story -

Interested?
Fantastic-
So let’s begin,

True love, if there is such a thing at all,
is like the thread that makes the cloth
you can’t tease it out-
you can’t extract meaning-
without ending up deeper in the web-
and it always remains-
hidden under layers -

In the end, that’s all you can really say about any
True love story-
They don’t generalize-
They don’t analyze-
They arent found-
They just… happen.

and that’s what makes them “true.”

But what is this coveted “love” -
the emotion?-
the act?-
the mentality?-

Love, is a constant state of illusionment-

A collective agreement amongst humans-
that it, whatever it may be,  can be treated as an excuse
for recklessness, irrationality, and misplaced strife-  

A quid pro quo  between two individuals-
to agree that they are doing something-
anything-
other than mindlessly drudging through life-

Now that is not to say that what love creates is pointless-
I said before, I have felt the embrace of love
Love festers between individuals for so long
it has no option-
but to mould the physical to itself-
and alter our personalities-

Characterized by spontaneity-
by indulgence-
by risk-
to love is the most dangerous experience in existence-
the act of being fully vulnerable with another-
while promising not to hurt them the same-

Love is characterized by vulnerability-
and the constant fear of being hurt-

So you want to know how to write a true love story?
be honest-
dwell not on the “romantic” blindfolds that keep us irrationally seeking our partners-
dwell not on the on the memories of a love that blossomed-
reveal the core of love -

A true love story comes from gut instinct-
A true love story, comes from experience.
A true love story, if truly told, makes the stomach believe

So I said I loved once,
allow me to elaborate-

I too have felt the “butterfly stomach”
- where the insides of the lovestruck turn on their host and manifests the emotional significance of meeting “the one”

I too have spent the day daydreaming...
-Lost in the thought of “the one”, seeking brief breaks from reality in my mind between moments of  utter normalcy

I too have melted into a puddle of emotion….
-lying next to “the one” as we slowly spill more and more of the secrets that bound us as individuals, joining a spirit much larger than ourselves-

I too have felt... invincible-
-to know that I’ve found something more significant than myself. Something that replaces the fear of the future.. and makes it something to look forward to.

Yes, I too have fallen in love.
and I did just that-
I fell.





..And that is my true love story-
Edit: Thank you everyone. It has meant a lot.
 Mar 2014 Conor O'Leary
Cori
If you’ve only ever smelled fir trees covered with freshly fallen snow-
then you haven’t smelled it.
It’s an acquired smell, for sure.
It comes just in between the whiffs of
mashed potatoes
mashed carrots
mashed peas
mashed turkey
hell, mashed ginger-ale for all I know. . .
Somewhere amongst that microwaved menagerie, masked with the smell of eau de toilette,
it lives, and smells sweeter the longer brown sugar bubbles on top of caramelizing yams.  

If you can’t smell it, maybe you can find it.
Not many can, or do.
It hides in plain sight, though.
A lost and found box with accumulated cobwebs - everything still unclaimed.
A flyer for free puppies that no one ever took because they were “too much responsibility.”
Maybe there aren’t enough seekers in this game of empty rooms and blank guest books.
But keep looking, until bingo prize hand-me-downs after school plays look like Oscars.
You won’t see it until it makes you believe that plastic Mardis Gras beads are Tiffany-blue boxes.

It’s not so much in the nose, or the eyes as it is in the endurance.
Endure the voiceless Glenn Miller until his brass bellows become her voice -
whispering “I love you”  to the effortless rhythm of “Moonlight Serenade.”
And imagine her,
swapping her orthopedics for black heels,
elegantly taking Pop’s hand as he helps her up from her wheelchair,
to join him for just one more dance.
Watch as they become the sepia-colored couple in every anniversary photo.
That black dress.  Those fake pearls.  
The crescendo of the band.
It’s hard to miss when it’s screaming at you.
 Feb 2014 Conor O'Leary
Brynn
The instinctual longing for love defines you.
Evolution compels you to love.
Establishing connections to ensure the survival of the species.
To protect the young and find suitable mates.
To create a well balanced society.
Being controlled by chemicals that make you feel.
Chemicals that trigger longing and lust, desire and passion.
This is part of love but not all of it.
There is much more than just chemical reactions to love.
It is the key to survival and happiness.
To give and receive love is instinct.

Embrace it.

When you are in love you are alert and attentive.
The slightest touch comforts you.
Your nerves under your skin are ready to receive even the softest touch or caress.
When you wrap another in an embrace you share the warmth between your two bodies.
You find your hands on their back and theirs on yours.
The new closeness between you two is acknowledged by the same core temperatures that surround you.
You hold each other close
Becoming each others blanket.

Take a breath.

Inhaling the familiar scent that is both unique and common to each thing you love.
The scent of baby powder and warmed milk of your newborn.
The musky earth aroma of your beloved pets.
The warm brown sugar scent of your mother
Or the freshly cut wood smell of your father.
The mixed berry sent of your friends.
The smell of your lover, so unique yet so ordinary to you.
The name of the fragrance forever lingers on the tip of your tongue yet it is mixed with indescribable scent of that person.

Savor the moment

As you breath in their scent you awaken your tastebuds.
You associate their aroma with a flavor you crave.
The air around you has a crisper taste as all your senses converge to make you more aware of every second.
You welcome the flavors you can’t describe
And welcome the flavors that trigger nostalgia.

Listen closely

The heartbeat and steady breath of one another being to match.
As you hold them closer you become one.
The heart may sound like the light tick of a pocket watch
Or the loud beats of a bid flapping their wings.
The breaths can be slow a methodical
like waves rolling onto the sun kissed sand
Or the gusty like the winds that blow off the top of whitecap waves.
But soon your breath and heartbeat matches your loved one.

Watch carefully

When you see your love your pupils dilate allowing you to capture all aspects of your love.
You want to examine every feature of theirs and develop their picture in your memory.
The corners of your mouth may stretch to form a smile
Creating raised cheekbones and crinkles in your skin by your eyes.
You watch as the world around you becomes more beautiful.
Your perception of the world has changed due to the cocktail of chemicals mixing in your brain.
You begin to see love all around you.

You begin to feel it, smell it , taste it and hear it.
You begin to love,love.

When you experience love you realize that it could be the force that launches a thousand ships.
Or cause lovers to die for one another.
The cause for adventure and the winds that push loved ones home.

It is clear that love does not cause an uncomfortable rash that infects your body and mind.
It does not cause distress or insecurities.
Love will never be found in a nightmare,
You wont wake up in the middle of the night trying to run away from it.

You will want to keep love on you like a locket
Holding all the people and places and things that engage all of your senses.
You want to keep it and hold on to it forever because it makes you feel serene.

You love because of instinct.

You love for the experience.

You love for the love.
I find myself wondering what my mother
expected to get when she
decided to have a second child.
There were undoubtedly
some preconceived notions
of what her daughter would be like.
I’m sure she pictured a graceful beauty
with an attractive smile and a gentle demeanor—
deep, dark brown hair like her own.

Sorry, Mom.

You had to settle for
a uncouth ball of tangled ambition,
the stubborn, imaginative smart ***
you never knew you could want—
who will overthink this enough
to form it into words.

At least you can say
you got the hair right.
© Bitsy Sanders, November 2013
 Nov 2013 Conor O'Leary
Brynn
We have chemistry together. From the start of the school year we have sat next to each other and exchange casual conversation. We are lab partners. We make faces at each other when the teacher isn't looking. We talk about class outside of class. We share notes. We share a class together
        We have chemistry together. From the start of the school year we have revolved around each other and exchanged phone numbers. We are lab partners. We watch each other's every move so we don't mess up the experiment. We talk to each other outside of class.We share notes. We share chemistry.
 Nov 2013 Conor O'Leary
Brynn
Blues
 Nov 2013 Conor O'Leary
Brynn
They can be those dark and mysterious shadows or the fresh autumn sky.
Blues are calming and melancholy hues.
They can lighten a room or darken a room.
But to me, the blues are your soul.
People say that everyone's soul is a different color but all I see is diffenet shades of blue.
Music comes from the soul
The blues are your soul.
When an artist performs it's from the soul and every true artist has soul
And every artist knows the blues.
The blues rip through a region only you know exists.
Through an area only you can feel.
But when the blues are expressed correctly everyone can feel it.
Some don't like the blues
Only because it rattles a sensitive part of your being.
The blues cover all the pain you've felt and all the celebration.
The blues are part of everyone
Weather they want to feel them or not
But to not have the blues is to not have a soul.
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