Time is a wall of wind I'm leaning into, stronger and stronger with every step.
Dust trails off of me as memories and fleeting feelings fly into the great forgotten with explosive verve like shrapnel discharge soaring towards oblivion.
I have many eyes and they see so much,
often this is where feelings begin,
each sees the world differently,
with their own unique perspective,
yet all these differences find solidarity at a certain point within my mind,
thus a greater understanding of what the winds of time may throw my way.
In one hand, I'm holding my heart, shielding it as it beats,
guarding it perhaps from my own self.
My other hand is stretch outwards,
a welcoming arm to the wonders of the unknown.
My soul is sitting on a weathered throne,
hiding somewhere in the shadows of my mind,
so that it might see the lights of life project into the subconscious theater,
as it is entertained by tears, smiles, fears, and laughter.
Each footstep is a time I've lived,
a story to tell to inspire and guide those who might find that same footprint.
The only sounds that comes my lips are the rhythm of my breath,
a whisper in,
a whisper out,
I am one song.
My hair does this thing where it gets in my eye, just my right eye, I feel this need to brush it to the side,
and despite how annoying it is, I refuse to have a different hair style. This particular moment, my hair is
smashing into my eye like a shank during a covert prison engagement. My hands are curled into fists and pushing the ground beneath me, my legs sprawled out somewhere, god knows where, behind me, and no matter how many times my hair gets in my eye, I don’t care because it feels way to good being inside this girl. My hands uncurl and find their way around her back as I pull her body closer and my lips find hers somewhere in the outer reaches of the lovemaking universe. Every single push in, my mind
becomes poisoned by pleasure and possibilities, a thousand other positions we could be in, where do I
want to take this dance, how can I maximize my pleasure, her pleasure, our pleasure, I slow down for a
moment and slowly run my hand through her hair, her eyes are searching mine looking for any insight
into what could be next, but the answer isn't there because I’m too lost in the moment to know.
The ceiling, the walls, the very floor beneath us, all shoot off into extruding directions and it’s me and
her and the sex between us. I’m deep inside her everything and she clenches down tightly around me,
squeezing my life-force from out of my body as I push in and pull back only to push in again, my hand
anchors her lower back, the other runs down her side, feeling the strength of her thigh, every exhale
from her is the sound of piano keys alluring me deeper into the madness of the feminine melodious
We turn to the side without skipping a beat, connected as if we were one unit of creation, radiating with
the expression of life itself. It’s not about physical pleasure in this moment; it’s about the look in her
eyes, those mirrors that show me the look in mine. It’s the silent spoken language of souls that softly
speaks sweet surrender to the moment that we’re making as we make the only world we want to live,
breath, and be in.
Inside her, our legs entangled, our hands hold each other’s faces, and we’re a breath
apart. I can see her loving me with everything she is, I don’t see her for anything she was before, I only
see her for the wonder she is right now, and I know she feels the same. We smile in serendipity,
pausing in the beauty of the present, we kiss, then quickly fall asleep holding each other.