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.
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2 comments:
Are cheap alcohol and neon lights not a form of love?
Doug-
You're right, they are probably the most common form. How could I have been so blind?
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