If only the world's most brilliant of scientists
could somehow capture the manner the pen glides
on the paper guided by the motion of your hand;
and put that method on sale;
she'd trade all the love poems she'd ever
written in your memory, in ink and in blood, on paper,
on water, on dusty table-tops, on fogged windshields...
to hold her pen your way and for once,
sign your name against hers.
If only the world's most masterful of painters
could somehow capture that same glint
that sparked in your eye the innumerable times
you played a successful prank on her;
and put that painting on sale;
she'd trade all the dreams she'd ever seen, sleeping and
waking, of the future, of the past, as a child, a teen,
of the utmost improbable, of the nearly possible...
to look straight into that glint and for once,
be outshone by your mischievous radiance.
If only the world's most dexterous of engineers
could somehow capture the intonations in your voice
when you sung out loud the songs on your mind,
while your conscious brain was occupied elsewhere...;
and put that audio file on sale;
she'd trade all the sounds that ever fell upon her ear -
from her mother's lullabies to her first uttered words,
the music of heartbeat to the pattering of rain,
the rustle of leaves to the soft beating
of sunlight against walls and windows...
to fill the void with your voice and for once,
not know any sound in the world, but yours.
If only the world's most evocative of writers
could somehow capture the deluge of emotions
that ran through her being when she was
going head over heals for you -
the first hug to the first kiss, the holding of
doubtful hands to the perfectly interlocked fingers,
the rendezvous in the coffee shop to the first dinner
together, to the evening spent in a Lovely restaurant,
and the big-time quarrel on a rainy day;
and put that experience on sale;
she'd trade all her learning - the alphabet, the bachelor's degree,
the wisdom of past relationships; the stepping stones to success;
the laws of Newton, Heisenberg's Principle,
the 4 Ps of Marketing, Black-Scholes and Black-Holes;
to go through it all over again, and for once,
end her life by the breath-taking emotion called LOVE.
February 23, 2012