She awe me. She has all these medicinal terms encrypted on her mind, and each time she speaks, she does so with ease as though she was born to be a doctor. She’s a natural. After love making, she’d whisper something like,
“Phill, I get tachycardia when I’m around you.”
At first I pretend I’m asleep, not to seem as dumb, not to ask her what it means.
In my own simple way I’d tell her, “I love you too.” But, she’d be laughing at me all the way, chuckling like a teenage girl in the arms of her teenage boyfriend, across the streets, holding hands, from watching a romance film. I didn’t get it right. She has built this new world around me that I find it profound to lay bare my fears. Before we sleep, she’d say,
“Honey, I’ve been thinking…”
“About. …?”
” Who needs drugs that will stimulate dopamine transmission when simply being with you does the trick?”
I’ll just utter mumbly,
“Maybe those who never had me.”
She’d smile. We’d fall asleep. Not that I have the tiniest bit of what she means, but somehow, naturally, I just get it. Sometimes she’s crazy. There’s this one time she came home from the lab, distressed, and decided to take her frustrations on me.
“Phill, why do you always lie to my face… you thought I’d never find out…?”
“What…. lie about what…?”
Of course my mind would have raced if I’m having any affair at all, even when I’m plausibly innocent.
She’ll just stand arms crossed, staring at me ardently.
“Honey, you’ve never told me that you are a cardiothoracic surgeon. ‘Cause You must have done a cardiectomy on me.”
When I noticed that she pulled that doctory shit on me, she came close and hugged me, we kissed, and decided to pull one of my poetic shit on her…
“Baibe, the cool points are out the window and girl I’m all twisted up in the game”
She’ll be perplexed. Stay mute and stay in my arms for a while.
Finally I won this.
…
As written by Phill Ibsen
( Master Of Descriptions )
A Heart_Art_Poetics productions
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