A COMMUNAL EXPERIMENT IN SELF CURATION

a Soul Project

archival : blessed :

I tell him all the time.
"I'm so blessed!"
But really, I am.
I read him my college essay yesterday and he fawned over me,
and I was all blushing cheeks and antsy body.
I can barely contain myself when we speak.
His voice has the dual effect of
making me quiver and relaxing my senses.
I've given up trying to figure out what his secret charm is,
its too innate to pin down.
I write this and initially I was speaking of our phone conversations,
but now that I think about it... now that I really look back...
I'm always bursting.
What happens to my body when we meet?
What strange force takes over that makes me swoon and coo!
Next time, which may be tomorrow, I'll try being dull.
I'll try it, even for just a minute or two,
and I'll see how he reacts!
But I know it'll be an act, to be dull,
for when we're near
I can't help but transform into some daring, bold girl
with a passion for this brilliant, charming boy.
I'll hear the word "charisma" and think instantly of his smile.
How does that even work!?
Whatever the cause of this fever,
I hope we never cure.
And here I am, speaking for Andrew.
Andrew, Andrew, Andrew! I never call him that.
But I've told him how much life he brings
to an otherwise common name.