we have all been waiting in some degree or another for the lovers to become one. for the endless social bumpings to cease, the perpetual circling in random spirals within the mind, the countless nights of lying there in darkness, waiting for a hand to lightly tough your hip and confirm in that dusty halflight that you are loved, that you are more than the receptacle for something that is bitter yet bland. we are all waiting... for deep within the rambunctious mind, you, me, we all know that it's never enough, never right, never forever.
4 Comments:
if only faerie tales were true.
Infinity captured perfectly.
Have you considered that perhaps waiting for the social bumpings to cease is pointless? Maybe, just maybe, the jostle of our flawed communication is what keeps us whole, safe from being totally lost in the other. With the acceptance of the bitter comes the knowledge that all is far from bland and it's simply that one cannot always see the details without shifting position.
There is no destination, life is a journey and when it stops it's over, no matter how good or bad the moment it's impossible to hold on to. Moments just pass leaving after images; dust, sweat, sharp cracks of of a slap and soft touches of passion. Images linger, fade and then drift back to recall shared moments. They say you can never remember your orgasms ... perhaps that's true, perhaps that is what keeps us searching for the other to become lost with.
Yes it is and it's all happening now..............................
.................................
.................................
Post a Comment
<< Home