You could be outside my door, dropping all kinds of hints but I’ll never grasp them
We could be flirting
Back and forth
Right on the verge of explicit
I’ll doubt your interest
I think the reason I throw myself so hard into love is because I know that life doesn’t last
And it makes people who date me rethink being with me
In some cases, it makes them go back to the safety of what they know.
In others, it makes them realize that intense love isn’t what they want
And in others…I don’t know
They just leave without explanation
So I don’t see because I doubt
And they don’t stay because of my hearts certainty
I’ll admit to fear
And not knowing
And I wish I was more comfortable with new
I may be clumsy at the beginning
My love is not a cage
Go home to the empty
To a night filled with silence
“Have a fun weekend”, they say
All I have is this job and these words
Too heavy to bear
These weights forgiven
Tears too heavy
Fall from a single eye
Only one still able to cry
Edge of the map
Here be monsters
I was thinking that the thing I miss most about K was that when I was with her, I slept. Every night, I slept as soon as my head hit the pillow to the time I had to wake. And wake I did. Before the time of my alarm. Which I stopped setting. Because waking up meant seeing her. She factored hugely into whether I’d call in sick or take a vacation day. Hint: I mostly did neither unless I was on death’s door.
And yes, the sleep thing is the largest piece. The one with the most impact on my day to day well being.
It’s not what I miss most. Not really. Not sleeping is a lifestyle I am well acquainted with. No. What I miss is the casual flirting we engaged in that was anything but casual. The smiles and knowing looks. Her laugh.
Her, basically, all of her.
And it can’t be the same. After. I wish it could be. It might be. I don’t know. I just know that casual flirting is never really casual with me, so the road back to that…I don’t know how to chart that course.
It wasn’t an acrimonious ending, so it’s not like I’m trying for something she doesn’t want. Casually flirty is ok. I checked how she wanted to proceed. Because of course I did(a good friend of mine would say it’s the Dominant in me. That I have to explain, check, then explain again. My friends right, in that it’s my nature.(double explain, lol))
My heads not in a poetry place right now. And that’s ok. Lots of thinking to do. And wondering about what was and what might be? Well, I’d say they are right in my wheelhouse.
Some heavens are found when we give in to our desires.
I’ve tried to make this day about control and the measured step by step of needs building until the pressure itself became an agony. It would have been a masterwork. But watching my Tara play with my Sara…the gentle torture of pleasures inflicted.
The soft kisses and gentle caress of fingertips. The sounds of bodies moving against each other and soft silk. The smell of sweat. Musk saturating the cool afternoon. Faint but detectable, for one whose smelled this heady mixture before.
I sit saddle style against the chair I brought for Tara. Arms resting on the chair back. Soft smile tugging mouth upward.
I don’t know if I’m the one who is changing or we are all growing together. I wonder if my current line of work, taking me away from cold planning and corporate maneuvering, and back into the field…if somehow with my blood lust sated, I want only gentle things.
I look up from my minds wander to see Sara looking at me, her blindfold discarded in the tumult. I see her. And know that pleasure is never enough for her. And seeing her see me, my fire wakes from dormancy. She kindles my flame as she ever has. And in our shared fire, my mind tracks to the sound of ragged gasping.
While others might take the sight of two beautiful women making love to be enough for desire…I know something so simple and without that black edge of control and pain, will never be enough. Not for me. Not for Sara.
And while Tara is made of gentler things, still, her joy on my leash…she has a place with us. Her fox to our wolves.
“Tara,” I say, “get up please. It is time for me to play.”
You’ll never be here watching me sleep
Days passing by
Cuddled under my raven blanket
Sad songs singing through my bedroom
You’ll never see my hand kneed the soft cat sleeping next to me
The rise and fall
Breathing in and out
Never see my arm hugged around a pillow
Thrown wide at an odd angle
Remembering what it was to sleep near another
Never know that my dreams are of you
And when I wake
To music and white stucco ceilings
Tears and absence will be my companion
And a cat and penguin
Said into silence
Give me those moments where certainty is clear
Where all the shadows and scales fall from the eyes
Where paths are unshrouded and truths are spoken
This fulfillment of purpose
Of the situation broken and bloody
Looking at me
My arms are open
I’ll guide you should you allow it
You are mine