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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