I Know It’s Hard, Baby (audio)

Crisp white wine, crystal blue water, and the kind of existential angst which feels so familiar as to almost have become my signature vibe. Summer skin and the warm scent of coconut oil. He tugs me close, turns me around, and ties the strings of my bikini bottoms back together after having untied them an hour or so ago when passion had blossomed, lush and intimate, into an entire mood of late afternoon desire.

When we make love, it’s like a kind of smoldering apocalypse, everything comes crumbling so beautifully, ruinously down, down, down. Out here on the water, the sway of the boat on the rolling swells rocks us hypnotically into a place where alone means something you can reach out and touch, a kind of freedom you can almost hold onto forever.

He says something innocent and filthy that makes me laugh and I turn up the music as I pour more wine. Laughter feels like heaven. It feels like a rumbling, delicious breakthrough. The orange sun is heavy into its evening show of heat rays, glittering itself in lavish peaches and watermelon pinks all across the dimples on top of the light blue water. It’s funny the things you swear you could taste even with your eyes closed.

He takes a swim and I watch his smooth body slip into the coolness of the lake. Fixing my wide brimmed hat to shade my eyes, I can feel my insides are the kind of low humming snug that comes with sweet satisfaction. I think briefly about how lucky I should feel, swallow my drink. Run an ice cube down my neck and drag it across my collarbone until it all but melts completely and disappears.

On the tip of my tongue is a poem I would give anything to speak. But the words only hover and will not repeat. I curl up on the long bench seat, pull my knees to my chest and concentrate on the rise and fall of my own breath. You never escape the dreaded thing, but there are techniques. You can try to tame it. The heat is letting up as clouds thicken, darken, extinguish.

As the clouds move in and the gulls swoop closer and closer together in a soaring circular ring, time slips away on the breeze. The trick is time is always there. And they will tell you it waits for no one but the truth is that it waits for me and I can feel its jaw widen against the atmosphere. For all the permission we give ourselves to forget the world and all of its madness, this life is an abyss. My lover and I riding the tide toward the wide open mouth of the end of the line and we’re slowly sloping in

44 Replies to “I Know It’s Hard, Baby (audio)”

  1. How can the experience of reading your breathtaking writing go from brilliant beyond to fucking brilliant beyond? It’s actually quite simple: hearing you read it! Again and again… XXX ❤️❤️❤️

    Liked by 1 person

        1. I think I have an idea for the next project, or the next compilation…. will send you a note if I can organize my thoughts…. thank you for your beautifully nudging me along toward composing something new. I really am trying to wrap my jumbled head around it…. 💀🌹Xx

          Liked by 1 person

  2. Gently glorious. For so many reasons, not least of which was the chance to hear you again, that marvelous, melodic, timeless voice. I love how feelingly descriptive you are–how many times have I read your words and felt them, sensed them, smelled and tasted it all. A gift you have. And that line–thank you for that line: a place where alone means something you can reach out and touch, a kind of freedom you can almost hold onto forever.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I am so touched and deeply grateful to you, dear sweet George, for your attentiveness. The way you indulge my works as only you can, feelingly, intimately. It is everything I could wish for as an artist. Thank you ever so. ♥️🙏🏻🌹


    1. I love that you resonated with this line in particular, dear beautiful Isha. Delicacy and fire…. I’m endlessly grateful for how you express the way the words make you feel. 🙏🏻🌹 And thank you so much for listening! Warms my whole heart that you enjoyed. ♥️🌹🕊

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Dear Allison. You could steal a man’s heart with your beautiful voice. The verbal words you shared. Tempting, wonderful and so good. Hello from Michigan and I hope you are doing well. Enjoying the days of Summer.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Dear sweet John, you are so very kind, and I smile because something inside me tells me that thievery is perhaps overrated. But it warms my heart to know you enjoyed my voice and this piece. Thank you so much for spending time with my little creations. 🙏🏻❤️🌹

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I wish I had a pretty voice. I was blessed with the Bukowski voice. Not over-rated dear Allison. Conversation is under-rated. People, who know true love. They talk to each other. A beautiful voice. Can be ambrosia. We need conversation, human contact and to feel wanted. You are welcome my friend.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Ah, Bukowski, another of my poetic adorations. I’ve listened to many of his readings, manic as he was, an original, he could cut right into a thing for all its brutality and beauty. 🌹 And I am so very grateful for what you say about contact, connection, voice and conversation. And feeling wanted. Your wisdom awakens me, makes me feel like I have something to offer this world….Thank you, my dear sweet friend. 🙏🏻❤️🕊

          Liked by 1 person

          1. You are welcome dear Allison. New world. People, don’t talk. Someone should remind the children. Talking is fore-play. Excite the mind, excite the body and then the heart. This is where passion is born.

            Liked by 1 person

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