The heart wants what the heart wants.
Desperation. Envelopment. Devotion.
To be devoured. Possibly destroyed.
None of that remains to have sense.
Illogical. Like him.
Golden and Blue. Swollen lips.
Nothing in the realm of where I would prefer my reality.
I cannot help it.
I do not understand how it happened.
One moment, professional.
Romantic the next.
It was all in the cards, as he would say.
A love, to great to break away?
I admit there is conflict between he and I and my mind.
But James Tiberius Kirk will always be my Valentine.