Member-only story
When Eros Shoots His Arrows Into Our Fragile Human Hearts
Prose Poetry
You’ve felt it, haven’t you? It’s as swift as a sword drawn out in battle — that sharp snick of a moment, target met, a gaze locked to a gaze, breath coming fast.
“Oh. It’s you.”
Maybe you don’t say a word that first day. Maybe you won’t even have a conversation for weeks. Maybe you avoid that moment when words enter the picture and change the heat of the moment into something that can grow — or something that can break.
“Hello, stranger.”
Oh, no, it’s not that simple, is it? But your heart thrums, blood rushing to your head, this dizzy spell of something that is new and fresh and so full of promise. In this moment caught in the gulf between words, you know you’ve got one shot at this. The perfect moment you’ll always remember after this day — what if you can’t make it be everything you’d hoped?
No one gets to say hello twice. Make it memorable. But why are words hard at this juncture? Suddenly you’ve lost control of your tongue — and you’ll say something right or something silly, there’s no in-between.
Maybe you exchange names and phone numbers. Maybe the victories really are that small in this spare moment. Maybe you’ll be able to steady your breathing and walk away with…
