Bones

I love the bones of you.

Such an odd saying, I always thought.
There are so many things to love about a person;
why pick the bones?

But there is truth to it.

Bones are architecture; the scaffolding around which a body is built.
They define the shape, the purpose, the strength, the size of a person.
The nature of the disturbance of the air as they enter a room; their presence.

If you love that central  core
around which a person is built,
that determines the shape of their thoughts,
the purpose of their heart,
the strength of their longing,
the size of their soul,
There is no turning back.
No end to that loving.

After death
only the bones remain.
And the love.

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