The Perfect Word starts in my head, and follows the inward breath down to my chest and through the heart to the centre of my soul, where it finds itself then rushes back up to be known to the world. The Perfect Word and I share such joy, and like I said it feels good to share. It rushes up the back of my throat and and moves like silk across my tongue. The Perfect Word tastes like everything perfect. Like chocolate without the calories but not the fake stuff. The Perfect Word is real.
My lips smile a perfect smile, a side effect of saying the Perfect Word, and the Perfect Word gets spoken. It sounds like an angels harp as it plucks the strings of my vocal chords and glides softly through the air, riding on the perfect love it generates, right to the ears of anyone lucky enough to hear it.
The Perfect arrives. Are you ready? Here it is.