Fatally smitten. That might be more fitting. I’ve found myself both smitten and smote in a variety of ways. Smitten. Consumed with feeling, enamoured, joyful and absolutely batty in the most delightful fashion. Birds sing. Colours are vivid. Sunsets have significance. Then, there’s the other meaning of smitten: grievously stricken, afflicted, run through, torn asunder. The floor collapses beneath you. Your head spins. Your heart drops. And probably breaks. Another of my favourite words: cleave. Things are either cleaved together or cleaved apart.
A cleaver is also a very big knife.
I’ve delivered disastrous blows, and I’ve been on the receiving end of the injuries. Nasty business, this love thing.
or, maybe this one
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwnLlQ6t2uE&feature=related
