New Thrill

The last time my balance refused to stay with me --
kind of how it does when you're with me --
I was a year old and learning how to not drag my knees.

When I first attempted to walk,
my legs proved weak and quivered without hesitation
until they could no longer support the rest of me
(especially my disproportionate head, which
weighed me down).
And as I believe I've grown into the size of my head,
I can only think that what's emphasizing the
gravity that's pulling me toward the ground is
the immense force with which you inadvertently tug on my
heart strings.

And it stings every time my blood rings in my ears
when you speed up my pulse but
the rush you release in me with every word you spill
reminds me why I'm after you, still.
Because the excitement you instill in our merely
few-month new thrill is what puts in me
the endurance to stand back up.