how do you want it?

How do you want love to be?
Do you want it to start as a ball of fire beneath your sternum,
spreading to every cell in your body,
incinerating your skin from the inside out,
making you into a burnt offering?

Or do you want love to be a tightness in your throat,
catching all your muscles and tendons and ligaments
until your entire body clenches
and all your insides become outsides?

Let me tell you how I want love to be.
I want love to whisper across my cheeks
and blow back my hair.
I want love to tickle my neck
and breasts
and thighs
and toes.
And then I want love to pick me up and throw me
so high
that I breathe ozone
and see stars.