Passion is carefree, often buoyant.....breezy, and is absolved perpetually of prohibitory rationality.
Being logged in to it for a little over eternity, this is exactly how I have felt: intense, steamy ...maybe a bit frenzied.
Passion is also a sudden, swift salvo. On many a fleeting occasion, ergo; I have come perilously close to suggesting my maudlin ardor and poetically propose an incredible romance, which if you dismiss; shall break my heart in two and if not; shall break a home or two.
It is like this therefore, that I have come to feel like an outlawed fugitive and as if in the wink of an eye, a million lonesome nights have passed, sorely bruising and tearing me apart between the hearth and the heart.
Tonight: the first one after those million; I am transcribing my thought to tell you that I am hooked, as though in a playback loop - a weary, age-old vinyl record; pitching forward, skipping backward in a pestering, irksome Xerox of scratches, static and blips; all in the same little sector where there was once music.
❉
Maybe that is why I surprisingly realize the pain of passion, and slowly capsize into a drifting, dry sleep