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I never put much faith into these things -- disappointment is swift to follow. Earlier this morning I found myself unable to sleep as usual, the anxiety and depression eating at me. You'd think something would give and one or the other would drain my body of its energy -- apparently not. My mind was racing as usual. I thought to write. I thought to write something of the sort:
"I remember standing against the Jupiter tree with the skirt raised to my hips. I became a long sigh and watched your eyes as they sought me like a long sigh. Several nights when we breathed together, it was a quick pit fuck, and then that was the last time we had ever found ourselves on that hill. I never came back. I never was un-mad again."
I can write this now. And when I do, it could sound possibly beautiful. Then as I saw it in my head, as I could taste the heat of his mouth on mine, I knew it was unforgivable. I could almost feel the firmness of his fingers against the undercurve of my thigh. God, it felt lovely.
And then, in the night when my eyes feel very heavy, and I think I can finally get to sleep, he slips into my thoughts. It's like a murmur in across a room or the wind slipping through the grass. I recall words that have nestled deep within my mind and they are called forth front:
'I hope things are good'
'Sarah survived the surgery'
'I'll make love to her when she comes home'
'It's not that you weren't enough...'
'I just didn't feel complete with you'
These words hurt, you see, burned inside the fleshy expanse of your torso. It burns like a bitch and screams for you to feel it. So I got up, I stretched long and hard in the dark room and debated turning on the lights to see. I thought of stepping over the books that crashed over the night table and stacked on the side of the bed; I moved over these mountains of stories, and pull the bundle of letters from on top of my dresser. His words, they were all from one single letter of twenty-three he was written. The other twenty-two I burned as ugly sons of bitches, and I dared those little bastards of dreams to come for me again.
