Heart Function

Love is not what you think it is.

It’s not mysterious and deep.

It’s an algorithm, that’s all.

A script run anew with each person we meet.

A recursive heart function

Repeating until we are dead.

Love is not artsy-fartsy, hippie-dippie super-feels.

It’s a set of instructions, that’s all.

With infinite configurations

And variables.

The bits and bytes of our bodies

Are programmed to love each other.

Melting at the sound of his voice,

Your heart racing at the sight of her,

The ecstacy,

The forgiveness,

The mourning,

Is all 1001001001001.


Next Chapter: This Poem Doesn’t Mean Anything