Always Driven; Always Lost

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Slender beams of illumination enter
this darkened place as I kneel,
always driven, always lost,
frozen here,
waiting…..

 

I had just finished having a really good conversation.  So good it almost smells like cinnamon in your mind.  I probably exchanged more words with a grown adult that afternoon, and evening, than I have since March 28th and much more meaningful as well.

Angelic forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
burning through my naked outstretched arms.

Realization dawning on a deathless face.

A memory came back to me strong and true.  Though this sounds too lyrical it soothes my worried mind.  Soon enough I have to wonder about the best sex I ever had.  I don’t know how to answer that.  In true feminine form I have broken the issue down into categories that include:

 

I raise my head, now caressing
this uncaring salvation.

best sex…. This kind of means most passionate and which best suits my libido

doesn’t necessarily include my orgasm

or best orgasm… teeth gnashing, back arching , low moaning kind of orgasm

my orgasm

         best lovemaking…. Most romantic; which is different from passionate and involves more slow kissing

doesn’t necessarily include my orgasm

                                    most lascivious….  Sultriest

my orgasm, maybe multiple

 

Slender beams of illumination enter
this darkened place as I kneel,
always silent, always in prayer,
frozen here,
waiting.

Nobody…. I mean nobody, has been able to get all four categories licked, Boo Boo.  Nobody.

 

Haloed forms wrought in panes of glass loom as
dust dances in the air,
forming an image in my mind,
laying in my naked outstretched arms.

Realization dawning on a clock’s face.

I remembered a moment in time when I was in the grey dark icy cold.  I was frozen in the icy Mist of Niagara Falls in December.  That moment is a warm spot in my memory but only in my mind….

I raise my head, now submitting to
this oblivious reality.

 

  I shared the space but not the fondness but it is still so good.

He’s gigging again and with all the trouble here in river city; the mud flap boys.  They haven’t gigged together in 5 years.  Five years ago there was sleeping around and drunken debauchery and stolen goods and girls fighting in the bar over the same ideal…. But I digress.

 

He kissed me many times in between coming home for dinner and leaving for the gig.  He told me he loved me and thanked me for being supportive (fucking supportive is right, hell, I booked the damn gig).  I think this could end up being a highly portentous pursuit.