Toils of the geologist's heart

If only he could use his geologic tools to uncover the origin of this magnetic attraction.

His core drill and cryogenic magnetometer would confirm the origin of the long tender embraces, the late night calls, the endless declarations that echo in his head.

If only he could extract a small subsurface sample. He would cut through the many layers to reveal her angle and measure her difinitive orientation.

He longed to determine the strength of her proclamations.

He needed to confirm if her love was similar to the basaltic flows of Hawaii.

He was determined to eliminate any stray fields that may surround her inner feelings.

If only he could get a better understanding and make sense of all that he was experiencing.

Geology, despite its often uncertainty, now seemed to be more concrete then that of metamorphic love.

He agnonized hoping that her core was like an old internal, thermal remnant, where there may have been moments of chaos but after a period of cooling and realignment she would be a stable abnormally on the surface of his heart.