scientific method | a poem

I used to think that love was something combustible
An experiment with potions meant to react
Hypothesizing all the ways I wasn’t worthy
Lab coating all my insecurities in steam

I wondered why everything I made 
Would suddenly break
A failed attempt to replicate 
All the movies I’d seen 
Results brighter like evergreen 

I was the controlled variable
And all my catalysts ended in catastrophe 
Until I introduced the vial of patience
To your vial of understanding 

Where they whirled together 
Steadily simmering 
No sudden bursts of a seemingly rehearsed and known result
But a constant float
A holy, heart-shaped puff of smoke

I’d never observed an elixir so sacred
Bared my soul down, naked
For my method was never broken
Just waiting for x to meet y 
Where hearts are held, honor is high

Where two must try
Willingness breathing into everything
Only then can you reap where two variables meet
And drink from the vial of an overflowing gift
The love-filled, pink-bottled synergist 

Photo by Kinga Howard on Unsplash