I could love you so easily, that my heart independent of my other organs leaps out of my chest at the thought of … the sensation. Perhaps “love” is a loaded word. For the word implies devotion and dedication to the temple of you, in whatever evolution it becomes.
And what becomes of your devotees? Are you a merciful deity? Or one filled with the vengeance of a thousand suns? Does loving you inspire dissolution of self, or are you of many faces? Are you a pagan god, worshiping every individual part, or something more?
I am weary of jealous gods that wish to cage my individual spirit. Does loving you require human sacrifice? Or digging deep within myself … to find … the truth … that you are already there, and I am already at your feet, half way to moksha …
What magic is this?