Revisiting, again

It’s funny how easy it is for you to seem like you don’t even care. Not funny in the natural sense of the word, obviously, but funny how you made it seem like you ever did at all. I can’t tell though, did you?

Reading someone else’s mind isn’t easy, although I thought I was good at it before. Now? I’m convinced I don’t know what anyone is thinking at any moment no matter how obvious they’re being. You’ve really ruined every shred of confidence I ever had in being with other people. Maybe that’s my own fault. Which is that fucked up kind of funny again because we we’re never really together anyways.

You really do make it look easy though, forgetting me. I wish I was as good as it as you are, but that’ll be just another thing that I fail at. I’ll remember you and ache for it until the light in my eyes go dark.

Maybe you were just trying to get rid of me, that’s what I keep circling back to. You had a taste and the sweetness stroked your palate enough to keep you coming back for a little while, then something happened. Was it too sweet or not enough? I often think it was too much, that seems to be the theme of you when it comes to me.

“If I’m too much go find less,” as the phrase goes.

You didn’t even wait for me to say it.

Anything helps

I need you as a distraction, be that from reality or my self-imposed hell. Give me something good to feel about and revel in. Grab my hand and twirl into me. Let me watch your dress spin as it tries to catch up with you. I want to admire something that enjoys being admired.

Be that tiny dancer in the sand and give me a pirate smile. Hold me closer. Don’t let go baby, I need this.

Make it all go away, even though I know it won’t be permanent. You might be able to mask it for a while though. I’ll take anything you’ve got, and at least I’m trying now. The static in the signal is giving me a momentary reprieve. Thank you, I needed this.

Together

Can you imagine it, what together feels like? It’s not a word that exudes a certain feeling but if you asked someone and they gave it a moment of thought I believe you’d get an answer that would satisfy your mind and your heart. So, as you sit there in your pretty dress with your pretty smile and your pretty eyes, can you imagine what together feels like? Would you whisper your answer in my ear and cause a shiver to pour through me? Will you let your dangling strands of milk chocolate brown hair caress my cheek and overwhelm me to where I can’t help but pull you into my arms?

Together, to me, feels like warmth on a cold day. Sharing a blanket and your weight pressed into me as if we’re one entity. It’s also a quiet summer night in a darkened room, save the yellow glow of two lamps on either side of a couch. Our bare legs stretched out and intertwined, mine between yours and yours on top of mine. One of my hands clasping a book while the other kneads at the soles of your feet, my ears gifted with soft pleasured sounds slipping past your lips.

Every time I would look up at you as you made one of those sounds. I don’t know if you we’re doing it on purpose or if its involuntary, but eventually you catch me looking and begin to do it more often. Our eyes catch and you’d bite your lower lip. That would be the end of it. The end of me. The end of the book and the end of the saccharine moment we were sharing, because I’d stare into your green eyes and get jealous of your teeth biting into your lip.

I would split your legs and summit your body. My hands beginning their trek at your hips and dragging all the way up until they dive deep into your hair, pulling it back. My fingers through your hair like forks through sand.

My lips wouldn’t have the same patience. They would dive immediately for yours and indulge in a kiss that started in the middle as if it were paused from the night before. The soft and gentle moans from my hands on your feet would sound like a Disney movie compared to the NC-17 designation I would pull from you. The windows would fog with steam and after our deeds were done we’d be thankful that the house was empty, as we made no consideration for others when letting our lungs loose to play.

And then we’d lay there together, again. Some of our clothes in various stages of wear, while other pieces at random distances around the room. My hungry lips unable to stop feeding itself with quick, repeated pecks of your cheek and shoulder. Your hands traveling my thighs, up and down, before they reach to hook on the back of my head and pull me in for another kiss in an awkward and stretched behind you kind of way.

Together. The two of us.

Wasting another night against each other and redefining the way we think of certain words.

In some other life

Accidents are funny things, most often associated with destruction, anger or sadness.

A collision.

A betrayal.

An ending.

Conversely, there are happy accidents as well. Positive outcomes that cause you to stumble into something and makes your smile beam like an inextinguishable ray of light.

It’s serendipitous, like two people reaching for the same glove in a department store or sitting next to each other randomly in a movie theater. A conversation happens over the glove, or a catch of the eye on the way out of the theater. Fireworks from there.

Or better yet, they happen to be in the same room at the same time with all other distractions held at bay just long enough to give each other a chance. Who knows what might come from that. Who knows what still may come. Accidents happen, and sometimes they work out better than you would have ever imagined.

Dream A Little A Dream Of Me

“Hey, come’re,” he said as he took her hand.

“Why, what? What are you doing?” She pulled back slightly, confused.

“Just go with, baby,” he reached again and held out his upturned palm, this time waiting for her to offer her hand back.

She sighed a smile and dropped her hand in his as if it were a rock into the mud. He was in a mood and she could tell by the smile on his face. It was a mischievous smile, but the mischief was harmless. He wanted to play with her, but she found he always picked the oddest times.

He started humming and pulled her toward him. His right hand clasping her left with his left hand settled on her hip. She recognized the tune vibrating from his lips but she couldn’t quite place it. It was familiar. It was old. It was the perfect amount of peculiarity she’s become used to with him.

“Stars shining bright above you/Night breezes seem to whisper “I love you”/Birds singing in the sycamore trees/…“

“Dream a little dream of me,” she finished the words for him in her sing-song-y voice.

She pulled her left hand from his and, along with her right, extended them behind his head and dangled them loosely on his shoulders. Both of his hands were now clasping her waist and they swayed together slowly in a softly broken silence with his humming and her angelic voice.

The room was dark and it was late, neither of them were really sure what the exact time was but the streetlights were humming and the neighbor’s living room’s were all dark. The two of them had gotten lost in each other for most of the evening and just decided to move the festivities to the bedroom when he had a moment of inspiration and took her hand. They now swayed in the moonlight that shone in through the window and reflected off of the dining room table, which gave the room a spotlight glow. Their bodies moved just outside the glow but with enough reflection where he could see her lips moving as she continued to sing.

“Say nightie-night and kiss me,” her voice punctuated the last two words and she bit her lip while looking to him. He followed suit with a press of his lips to hers. It was a simple kiss that held them together with the softest touch, but evolved quickly into his tongue penetrating her mouth and lapping at hers while his hands gripped her tight and her arms bent around his neck.

When the kiss finally broke, she continued, “just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me, while I’m all alone and blue as can be, dream-a little dream-of me.”

Her voice stopped for a moment at each mention of the word dream. She looked at him and into his eyes and the light bounced around in them as he smiled. She squeezed herself around his neck and brought her lips back to his and he indulged in another kiss before pulling back and stared back into hers and the smiling beaming back at him.

He sang back to her, “sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be, won’t you dream a little dream of we.”

She bit her lip and pressed herself into him as hard as humanly possible at his changing of the last verse. She shook her head and dipped her eyes from his, “come on. Let’s go or we’ll wake the sun.”

He twirled her once and she led him to the bedroom, their fingers clasped in a hook the entire way down the hall. The door closed to soft squeals and low growls that filled their sheets until they fell into their own dreams, lingering in them until dawn.

I could use…

A girls that crawls in bed next to me, says “aw baby that sucks,” after a bad day, then kisses me on the cheek while pulling the blanket over our heads to do things that would make the neighbours blush.

Drowning in love for her

He loved her. It was obvious to everyone that he did, but nobody knew how much. The waters were rough on top but the depths steadied his love. He loved her right down to the ocean floor along the untouched sands. Past the wrecked ships and sea life he loved her through every wave that crashed on shore. And just like those waves his love never stopped. It may have lessened in force or ferocity, but there was always a storm brewing nearby that would rage the intensity for her again.

Why not another one, hm?

I sent you a song the other day. I said I thought you’d like the guy’s voice. You said you’d add it to the list and sent one back.

I listened to it and liked it. I usually do like your suggestions, but I don’t know if I like them because I like them or do I like them because you suggested them. Have you gotten so deep inside that you’re affecting me that much, that I can’t decide whether I’m me or I’m me because of how it relates to you?

The latter would make sense. I’m sure everyone would believe it too.

You never answered whether you liked my suggestion or not. Figures. I’ve always liked you more than you’ve liked me, and I guess that’s the eternity that I’m left to wade through.

I love a girl who doesn’t love me back.

It’s not her fault though.

I’m just tired and I wish I could stop, but love’s hunger is everlasting.

I can’t let go and I’m not sure that I want to

The problem is that when we first got involved my heart reached out and became intertwined with yours. It turned its beats to sync with yours. It’s blood pumped the same as yours. It wanted to be everything you needed to be happy.

But as we grew apart, each time, it refused to go back to what it was before. It was still yours.

And so, my heart is still attached. All of the others that grabbed hold in the past, they all let go. Mine won’t. It refuses, holding on for everything new its become as if it can’t live without holding onto a part of you.