I will tell you that love is not always glittering snow. It feels like the snowflake that melts on your eyelids, black ice, your lungs shattering from the below freezing air. I will not tell you that it is always beautiful. It is not always the hues of a glowy sunset dipped in the ocean. It’s hammers and rocks and chipping teeth and bulldozers. It’s harps and Japanese zen gardens and jazzy synths. It’s neon lights and looking at the sun too long and it’s a rock solid hangover. Crop circles, migraines, dizzy endeavors. Koi fish, incense, velvet. But it is not an illusion as everyone says it is, because it is tangible and whole, even when it is not always full…
