there is a strange science to you

God the veins on your hands

look like soft branching rivers

I notice it without meaning to

In the same way the brain notices danger before language arrives

Automatic. 

And I wonder if psychology has a name for this

this quiet distortion of focus

when beauty becomes data

and data becomes feeling.

Then your voice happens.

You say my name.

And something in my nervous system misbehaves.

A glitch of chemistry

dopamine maybe

or something softer science hasn’t named properly yet

Chills run through me

like my body is trying to confirm

that I am still inside myself

Still here.

It is almost funny

In class I learn about attachment theory

about reward pathways

about how the brain builds meaning from repetition and attention

But none of it explains

why one person can feel like a signal

that interrupts every system I built to stay balanced.

So I sit there, diagnosed by my own attention

That somehow

you became both the subject

and the experiment

in the same breath I use to think about you.

- Subhashi Tania de Silva