I am not myself

Love is in the veins.

It goes all over your body. It hits you and hooks you. There is no escape from it. It hurts you and pleases you. You cannot stop it. It comes and goes, pumped by the heart. Some say we love with our brains. I say we love with our veins. That’s why no one can stop it: it goes and runs and hits you without a notice. No one knows what it is, how it feels until is in their system, and it’s inevitable or unstoppable or both. But when it leaves, you bleed out, you heart dries out, there’s no more use for it. It’s good and evil at once. It’s life and death. It’s shivering and having a fever. It’s feeling. All. And all over our bodies.