Monday, June 02, 2014


There's something to be said on the subject of being wanted. The universe cranes its neck to provide a buffer from the rejection I have just suffered. It offers a phone call, a surprise, options. The stars spell out their connections; align to show the lines between the dots. Distractions. Ultimately. Distant.

I sit then lie in the steam room at the gym, post-workout. This has become my new favorite past-time. To walk in, alone, in a bikini and lay prostrate on the silver bench as the heat begins to slowly suffocate me. It's smothering at first, unbearable. Then it begins to settle. Sweat glides off me and  tumbles onto the tile. I close my eyes. I think of you. The world finally feels quiet in here.

It's always been hard to find a plateau for my desires. They dart and shoot only from the opposites ends of a spectrum. & yet. I keep going back to the blue light of your bedroom, the angles of light across your body. Your shoulder blade pinning mine. That is what I miss the most.

But we were just two people, being alone, together.

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