wild hearts

they stood gazing at each other, as her stomach began to feel funny again. and to explain the sensation i have to tell you another story. in his presidential address at the annual convention of the society for the scientific study of sexuality in 1968 (held that year in mazatlán among lots of suggestive piñatas), dr. luce introduced the concept of “periphescence.” the word itself means nothing; luce made it up to avoid any etymological associations. the state of periphescence, however, is well known. it denotes the first fever of human pair bonding. it causes giddiness, elation, a tickling on the chest wall, the urge to climb a balcony on the rope of the beloved’s hair. periphescence denotes the initial drugged and happy bedtime where you sniff your lover like a scented poppy for hours running. (it lasts, luce explained, up to two years—tops.) the ancients would have explained what she was feeling as the workings of eros. now expert opinion would put it down to brain chemistry and evolution. still, i have to insist: to her periphescence felt like a lake of warmth flooding up from her abdomen and across her chest. it spread like the 180-proof, fiery flood of a mint-green finnish liqueur. with the pumping of two efficient glands in her neck, it heated her face. and then the warmth got other ideas and started spreading into places a girl like her didn’t allow it to go, and she broke off the stare and turned away. she walked to the window, leaving the periphescence behind, and the breeze from the valley cooled her down.