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By darwin Date: 2004 Aug 03 Comment on this Work [[2004.08.03.13.47.3718]] |
| i watch him still. when he climbs out of bed, his skin warm and sweaty from a night of dreaming. i watch him as he walks away from me, his smooth backside playing curves in my mind. and i reach out a hand to touch him, and then he slides away. and then he's gone another day, and maybe another night. and i wait for him, and it brings me this sense of melanchony when i don't feel his skin against my hand, my finger tips stretching out for him across the miles. i say his name in my head, and think of him naked below me and will myself to feel him against me again. tomorrow is my birthday and he'll be gone again, into the night. just because suddenly we're adults and we have responsiblities. and we forget about the days when we would have just picked up a backpack full of clothes and headed off for destinations unknown. when our hands would have flown free into the cerulean blue days and felt the wind whipping away thought and consciousness. but now i'm in bed by ten and hope that my eyes close soon enough. because sometimes it seems now that only in my dreams can i feel that freedom anymore. |