April 28, 2010

The Roar of the Engine

Like magnets their lips shocked together, these old patterns were easy but some how different. Sweeter, he tasted sweeter and nicer, he snuggled better. His smile still the same, that smile that had made him the one in a crowd of jostling young men so many years ago. In the dark glow of HBO that smile flashed back and took her back to nights of shaking and butterflies. Even now as she writes about it she smiles, the best freckles and that smile, that smirk of content, nothing had changed, he somehow still had her in his clutches unbeknownst to him. He would burn her again in the next 48 hours, thinking these lessons ought not be learned twice she would turn off, shut down for awhile. But in the middle of the night she would find herself smiling to his smile and know there would be more burns to bear, for this tumultuous affair of serendipitous events was just revving its engine for another journey.

April 26, 2010

Reading Relations

It’s become increasingly more obvious that while I barely cracked the book this chapter is over.

Let’s go back to dancing wildly, where touch meant nothing and our movements spoke to beats alone. If we could go back, let’s go, let’s rush to our old cynicism and nights of Mexican beer. While I continue to daydream on you everything else points back, go back to the wondrous friendship and forget what the heavy drinks and buzzing signs felt like as we tumbled down into that mutual space of desire.

And now I will try with all my might to let it be what it never was a, just a friendship, for that is all it can be as we turn the page to start a new paragraph and old reconnaissance.

April 11, 2010

A Kiss Amiss

I feel myself reach out and pull at the tiny string that connects us, I pinch at it and pull hoping you will respond with light. If I thought I missed you before, if I thought she was ridiculous for saying the separation caused physical pain, I thought wrong. If I wished for that to happen for so many years, If I thought and wished it would be easy I wished amiss. How could you whisper that to me as I tousled in sheets and dreams and your lips? How could you say that and not know my mind and heart would wander down this retched road?

I let it, we let it, go too far. My mind said no, for that path of least resistance we tumbled down was incoherently felonious on every possible level. But I fell, no jumped with my heart first into a dark chasm that I had wished and thought about for so long. And now here I am pulling on that little string, reaching towards that little machine in hopes you will be on the other line but hoping mostly that what you whispered, what you said and the way you touched me were real and not a ploy or induced by cheap alcohol and neon lights.

April 08, 2010

It's Sinking, It's Getting Deeper

These are the nights where I don’t want to be thinking “oh this town” I want to be knowing “oh this city.”
These are the nights where I want to go walking and feel a little cold but my heart is warm.
These are the times where I want to be thinking I‘m home, and I’m alone and its quiet.
The only words are the thoughts in my head.
Where the dimming lights are more than innovation, where my great city coos with wet tires and electricity.
Until then these are the nights where I devise and scheme a way home to my Shangri-la, to my loves, to my city by the bay.
...
Oh incessant annoyances can be put to bed but the incessant words keep ringing and I’m wringing hands to keep above the panic.
Take me back and hurry before I forget you or let it get too deep here love!

April 05, 2010

The Old Neighborhood

We stretch out over the intercoastal. I rush to lift the shade, my eyes well, my throat clenches, and the guy next to me continues to drum to the beats in his headphones. It could be the surprise first-class free wine or the fact that I thought I would never come back. But now as I coast thousands of miles over my old home I am at a loss for why the emotion is sad, is regret. Could it be that this time I am alone? That so much of this old life here was a we and now it’s just me, experiencing life alone. I regress back to lessons in loneliness; I retrace the memories we made here and rushed away from. Do I call out you? Do I tell you “here I am? Here I am!” Only to make you feel worse, feel just as sad but still alone on our new/old coast. I didn’t mean to leave you hurt and I didn’t mean to follow you here. But here I am back on this lovely turquoise waterway filled peninsula, alone and I want more than ever to call to you and remind you of the beauty here and beauty that once was between us, ironically before we ever got here. I’m sorry my old love I’m looking for new experiences in our old neighborhood and only finding bittersweet reminders.

April 03, 2010

Old Love on the Horizon

I’m feeling unusually melancholy, I sit listless and alone. Alone and full of lists. But it's you my na├»ve knave that I will miss. You my friend, you my dear, new friend. Horizons are changing; vacations will bring new beaches and beats for short days of old abandon. Let the coming rain wash away these melancholy tears and let me return like the rising sun to set on new goals and smiles. Old scars feel fresh and I can’t help but think of old loves. As I traverse by air my mind will wander to the thoughts of love past...