I look at you and the chemistry happens.
Your perfect image is flung across my retina, seductively easing its way into my optic nerves.
And when it hits me I flip-flop with your picture and my brain goes mad.
The sparks flow through my dendrites like electricity, synapse to synapse.
Norepinephrine. My heart races.
Adrenaline. I feel like I can fly!
Endorphins. Dopamine. I’m happier than I've ever been.
Oxytocin, oxytocin, oxytocin. I fall in love.
But the results from my recent experiments have lead me to conclude
that maybe I only have as much passion as a lifeless graduated cylinder.
Maybe I over-think everything and blame my mistakes on the science of life.
Maybe I think you don’t stay because that’s how you achieve evolutionary success.
You may not comprehend everything I say, because after all, I have a scientific mind.
Sometimes the neurons in my left hemisphere fire twice as quickly.
I speak in the strange algorithms of objectivity.
But I also speak a language in which we are both fluent.
I know you feel the rhythm of my words,
The wavelength, the frequency, the purity of the sound waves
The colors of the notes when my cords vibrate, they’re all for you.
Every cadence ends with you.
And that’s why I can only feel this way around the specific composition of the compound that is you.
The active sites of my little enzyme heart don’t connect with just any little substrate.
But when they connect, oh my, do they catalyze.
Because the molecules in my blood, the polypeptides in my hemoglobin
They’re attracted like ferrous chemicals to your magnetism.
I wish I could break these bonds, gain some mass and be on my own orbital path.
But I can’t help it.
It’s a conditioned behavior and an instinctual response.
You have a gravitational pull.
I’m stumbling towards your nucleus,
getting caught in your electron clouds
and spinning out of control,
wishing I could just listen to the music.