::Rutcrawling

I want to swap lies on the beach.  We hold each other and the surf washes the soreness away.  The moonlight pools around our nooks, lends credence to our stories of having nowhere better to be, nothing important to go back to, nobody looking for us and no reason not to kiss some more before we go back to the firelight and sing karaoke and drink too much and stare down the dawn naked from a balcony.  

I want blacklight and bass like earthquakes.  Wiggling hips and wind-blown feet and sweat and erasure.  All the boredom and loneliness frittered away into the laserlights and the oumph-oumph-oumph rambling between my ribs.  And then I want your arms to wind their way around my idiot belly, a shock – I want to be surprised by your attention.  Flabbergasted.  Flattered and unable to resist.  The song that’s playing would burn itself into the memories of the things you made me (want to) do, when I pull them out later like a treasure, to dust off and get misty-eyed over.  Or turned on.

I want to run away, as far as I can go.  Bridges burned and tires flattened and guns fired till they are empty.  Blood and smoke and a new name.  I want to find you at the end of that road, soothing and cool.  Pulling the ash from my hair with a flick of your wrist.

But I know there is no running; no road; no beach, and not even a scent of you. 

I’m going to die without ever having been properly seduced.