The Five Senses Of Love

My love for you is difficult to explain, but I know for certain that I have fallen deeply. It is easy to explain in cliches the way I fell in love with the smell of your cologne or the warmth that surrounds the air when you wrap your arms around me or your sleepy eyes as you watch Live PD or the little twitches your body executes when you’ve drifted off to sleep. Love doesn’t seem as though it can possess a taste or sound, but if you look a tad bit deeper, it, in fact, does.

Here is what I’ve experienced.

Love smells like freshly baked cookies, the morning after a huge storm, like the happiness expelling from a fireplace.

Love tastes like a dark cup of coffee with two spoonfuls of sugar, maple syrup sweet, like a flaky croissant—messy.

Love feels like walking barefoot in slightly wet grass, the stinging heat when entering a home after being out in the cold, like clean sheets fresh out of the dryer.

Love sounds like jazz music playing in a distant room, the hush after a snow storm, like the gurgle of a coffee machine in the morning.

Love looks like sunbeams flooding through window blinds just after the sun rises, blurry city and street lights through a wet windshield. Like skin up close—you see every pore, every bruise, every ‘blemish’, every scar.

So damn beautiful

Love is keen and secure and alive and firm and gentle and sweet and bumpy and passionate and blissful and vulnerable and patient and accepting and respectful and windy and committed. This single word, this single feeling, shakes the entire universe, shimmers like a treasure and releases fetters of fear and hurt. Hold onto it, savor it, because there is nothing more beauteous than letting love spill.