The reason we associate the heart with love is because we're hopeful about love: the heart is steadfast. It never breaks down, never veers from its rhythmn for the entirety of our lives.We can sense its presence simply. So we wish love were like this.

But the liver sheds more light on the subject. It is a sieve for garbage. It secretes a fair amount of bile and yet is comparatively fragile: any damage done is usually irreparable. When we damage it, it, in turn, slowly poisons us. It lies closer to our sex organs.

When I am near someone I love, I get excited, nervous--I want more than simply to get on top of them. I want to reach into them, hold their innards around me. I think of my head against the lungs, the heart nestled in my face, the ribcage surrounding me. And all around me I can see the bright blood travelling, as if my eyes are closed in the sun. I would be nestled close to the backbone, unobtrusive, translating one thing from the other.
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