Thursday, November 13, 2008

He always closes his eyes, until last night he was shaken awake with fear, He had hurt someone laying close to him. What happens when You find Your bodies close to each other, shaking and sticking  as your breath, heavy, in and out. How do we find ourselves in positions almost impossible to rip away from. He lies in my bed with his hands in His hair, twisting it back until he can remember a time when he wasn't this. A cheat. Or open to love in a way His body has never felt. And she, left in the wake of his passing through, finds herself surrounded with him. Controlled by his aloe lips and dew eyes. The last time, the way it will not end, They were the only people on the world having that moment. The light shone onto her hip bones where his face was firmly planted into her. He promised her that it would not end this way. Accidently crossing some imaginary love line and leaving her in near tears about what she was tearing apart in herself. He grabs the skin about her face and kisses her lips one last time before leaving, again, the squeaking door signaling his exit into the parking lot and to his car, to his friends house and to a distracted sleep. 

I've entered a kingdom, His world, half mine- entirely Hers. He's come inside of me and rested there, wept, and rubbed his face until it was gone. 

We didn't mean to trip and fall. I look at Him in the corner of the room and he looks back at me, staring out through eyes that have seen me half nude in the streetlights through the window. We both wear red today. Wear red to make blue. Put on yellow to make light. Wear nothing to have love. 

A bleeding, weeping heart consumes Their actions if they let it. If they hold true to how they started on this intimate journey, then they are lovers, eternally. Or they could allow the mundane thoughts of others infiltrate what They hold dear, the uncomfortableness of multiple lovers in one heart. Did he say that he loved Her last night? She thinks that she remembers him screaming it through his teeth as he pulled Her under her own sheets. The fabric falls from the ceiling and all around them until a mutual accidental orgasm. 

Coins litter Her room. Tiny reminders of where He has sat and snuggled. The couch. The bed. In the bathroom and around the floor. Quarters and pennies stuck in time, the most beautiful fleeting ship of skin and hair sinking into his car and driving away.

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