The Shorts and Long Of It

Even in the heat the rain feels cool on my skin, like your touch, it’s a dichotomy. The sky cracks and my shoes squeak, I walk slower. I turn up my face and close my eyes, senselessly I walk through the parking lot. Thoughts of you weigh on my mind lightly, intermittently as warm raindrops

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 I am so close. I feel almost full. Just barely at capacity for love, love of the earth and its many wonders, love of my friends and their endless hope, love for those wretches that I have left and those yet to come, love for all these things and the possibility of a love I know not yet and cannot fathom. This is a teetering on drugless ecstasy and if I can fall forward I will float on clouds.

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 I think about the moment you held my hand under the table and smiled at me. To date I don’t think I’ve ever felt that much electricity, unless I can’t remember touching my tongue to a socket. We ate everything and talked about anything, we drank vodka and I didn’t even remember I had a cell phone much less look at it. I was lost with you and I still am every time I think of this moment. What changed? How did we untangle?

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 There’s something to be said for silence. A thought lingers in silence and changes like wisp of smoke waiting and wanting for the next sound to be made. The thought shifts to contemplate the silence and thus the silence becomes the thought.