Very much just another blog

The room

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He sits in the back of the restaurant waiting for her, runs his thumb hard along the curve of his glass, empties it and fills it again. He folds down the corner of the page open in front of him to mark a poem he has chosen to read to her.

When she arrives she stands in the doorway. They find each other’s gaze and pause.

These two people are a reaction in the making, disrupting the chemical flow from their brains to their hearts. Far away they interrupt each other’s thoughts, stop calm activity with beating hearts that hold distant aching court. Their cells are knotted and waiting: he remembers a book from years ago; she will call seconds later to tell him it’s in her lap.

She turns and he follows her to the room where they always meet. In this room the hours are white and flash against their throats; time squeezes against them and their breathing is shallow. They only have a few hours left to feel. I need you, he says, because without this I am only half of me.

She lies in his linked hands, arms thrown back and heart exposed. He smiles at her pulsing skin, runs his glance over the form he nearly but can not quite possess. He pulls his fingers through her newly knotted hair and cups his palm around the skull that holds the mind that feeds him.

This picture is more intense for wanting.

She moves to encircle him, the body she can have, the mind, the heart for the hours they spend there. No going back, she tells him, and he kisses her face and her hair and her chest. She tightens her grip, breathes in, remembers that in uncertainty there need not be fear. She tries to ignore the pain.


Written by elikafm

March 24, 2010 at 3:38 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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