The Hang Up

This is my least favorite part

My cheek lines narrow, deep, wide, concealing desire, avant garde. Because I’m smiling so hard.

Telling you my ridiculous stories, startled and intrigued that you’re still listening; digging out my pad and pen to prick the tip of bliss and drip inspiration from clouds to lips. 

Gesturing widely with my hands, fingers speaking an unsigned language through a megaphone, hoping these butterfly ripples will reach you on your pillow and that it’ll feel like- I’m laying next to you.

Sharing our day together. Splitting the frustration with our kids. Edging out the sheet wrinkles with the smooth gliding of our hips, and always competing to be the first to suggest ice cream as the sacred remedy. 

I learned a long time ago that sugar can fix anything. So draw your lips to me and I’ll frame it in the space between our heartbeats.

I’ve been cleaning my room a lot lately. I know you’re not the company I’ll soon keep, but it’s a Zeus streak, catching lightning, every blue week, cuz I’m noob training, on the glued dais, monsoon waiting, for food payment, thoroughly unamused at my flowering chartreuse painting, I put so many words together it’s like a puzzle factory sold their pieces for stock in the picture and asked me to teach the curriculum. 

My room is clean. I’m a king preparing for a queen. 

The glow of my laptop is like a saber to the light- it calls to me. Missions left unfinished on my gaming screen. I’ve got a morning routine, several books to read and I try to get them done early because everything comes to a halt when you’re calling me.

I wanna do everything.

And I wanna talk to you.

It’s a strange paradox that lives in my mind- if I got my wish for us to talk all the time, the waves would lose the tide and the ocean would set on fire. Not talking to you is what gives us something to talk about. 

We’ve been talking for hours now. I love it when your voice pliés and I can hear your smile. Feel your smile. Like warm honey pooling across my chest.

And that is why this is my least favorite part… how can the night be good if it’s just me with my thoughts? This is my least favorite part…

Because it means our time has come and gone.

Away to sleep…

To awake in the morn.

###

Advertisements

One comment on “The Hang Up

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s