Inertia

We tell the same dumb stories and repeat the same old lines but something inside of me seeks for the magic in the mundane, the surprise inside the necessary. You’re talking too much about the things you can’t stand and though I don’t blame you, I’m tired of listening to the sound of the way the words drag me down. Think bigger, stretch it out until you can swim inside it freely. Take your clenched fingers and pry them from their bone white death grip around what they tell you you’re about to lose at any given moment and just breathe. Running barefoot up a grassy hill in the heat of summer we tumble and laugh while trading fiery glances, drinking from the wine you brought along with some biscuits and fruit. Romantic and trite, we are wishing it could be this way forever as we get drunk because the reality of our situation while beautiful is also too painful to absorb outright. Straddling your lap on a flannel blanket, we kiss until I slide off my shirt and let you suck my nipples, perky and splashed in broad sunlight. Pleased at the sight of my breasts so smooth and natural among the flowers and butterflies as your hand moves eagerly up my thigh, I lay back upon the soft ground and run a hand through my cascading hair, spreading it out all around me like rays of shining light. There is an earthiness to the airy scent of these fields which makes me feel like I finally belong. The clouds are an invitation to a better life way up in the sky, I secretly accept and float away on the breeze, higher and higher, until my insides fizzle and I merge with eternity. As you insert two fingers my arousal warmly welcomes you and I open, pink and juicy before you. Desire, greed, hunger, holiness. Feeling dizzy with wine and pleasure, I watch as little birds soar and swoop, tiny sudden chirping movements among the underbrush. Afternoons like this are made for the dreams they forbid us to dream and we refuse to waste a single drop of intoxicated bliss. We were never meant to be together at all or maybe there is no such thing as fate but perhaps in this life you take what you can get and hope for the best. I write about a sadness in my bones which never seems to quit and you write your name in bright lights inside your mind. You give and you get and along the way there is sweetness if you can learn to let it in with open arms, and then find it in yourself to just let go.