in the base of my atriums, i hear it. most of the time, it's there-- tangling with my blood and giggling into the palpitations, just enough for moonlight to eavesdrop. but this secret squirms, restless and eager. it crawls through my trachea, brighter than a firefly, and my whispers recede with its laughter. i thrash against my skin, pulling at the creases as if hoping to see its smile, but it tiptoes along the corridors of my ventricles, kept from light, lies, and curious eyes.
it was beautiful. i had never seen it, but i knew. it was beautiful because this was love. i could feel it in the echo of my wrist, the cadence of my throat. the quiet grace of perfection filled my soul.

i cried when the doctor told me of my heart murmur. a genetic defect, he explained, assuring me that my imperfection could be fixed. i reached towards myself, discerning the staccato speech of the secret.  the man asked me if i had found my flaw, and i shook my head as i listened.
"all i hear is love," i repeated until the faint fantasia blurred my sight. "all i hear is love."