love is a tug in the middle of the night, a fearful tap across the bed in search of a body who has not yet come, it is the trudge in the rain, a thin cotton blanket as a shield and lavender crocs that squeak with each step. love consists of 3 bangs on a windowpane and a bellowing yelp. it is the harmony of coughs at 12am, coupled with a few slaps on a table, and an exchange of looks that begs the question “another one?”
love is finger drawn hearts on a windshield; the ones you only notice when you’re backing up, and leaves you wondering “who did it?” it’s a frenzied dialogue in group chats, begging for lash glue, glitter, and a pair of spider-webbed tights. love is the utterance of my name in native tongue, a slick spilling of syllabus that clutch each other, as I await for the last letter to roll off your tongue; like a child in search of comfort they can’t quite explain. it is a verbal embrace, an imaginary set of hands wrapped around me; it feels like home.
you told me that love is to know, and i think of this often. Love reveals itself through questions, an interrogation if you will. a sudden appearance in a back corner studio, in search of a face that is every-present, yet not. atop a building, in a hidden crevice that only few can claim; we call it monday night specials. love is a strut and hard smile, with hands that hold a gift bought out of tender thought; “I thought you’d like this.” you’re right, i ******* do. love is a daily alarm that hits right at 8am, with three names that appear on a screen, and for a moment i forget of the 16 hours that separate us.
love is consistency, an unspoken ¡Presente! at any occasion ; a set of sweaty palms that cover my eyes before revealing a devious grin. love is a pack of strawberry nerds i tear open, and after several handfuls, we look at each other con una mirada que dice “pues si.” it is a carefully curated compilation of 62 songs, with a running time of 206 minutes. el amor es un pasaje oscuro, con luzes anaranjados, y fotos relleno de aqua.
love is repetitive, an ode to commit, it is a toast to all that is and what will be; love is the words “im proud of you,” a tap on the back followed by a 45 minute waterworks show. it is 4 makeup bags sprawled across my bed with Love, Damini dancing on the bass. it is the opening of doors, peeked heads and corn dip being served alongside a bag of Fritos.
i’ll keep repeating it until the words swell my tongue and inhibit me from going further. love is a testament, it is the conversations i have with God in a vacated parking lot. it is the prayer I send to my father each night with the hopes that his inner-child finds peace and closure from a past he refuses to speak of. it is the apologies and weeps i share with my mother, as we lament over innocence lost at the hands of one who swore to protect us. el amor es un angel que aparece a media noche, con un mensaje divina, es el pasaje entre dimensiones, afrontando el pasado, presente, y futuro.
-c.alejandra
