Anticipation runs, scurrying as though its head is its tail and tail its head. Then worry pops up. Worry is a close friend whom I always find pondering in front of me from time to time. “No worry, can you please leave as I am not home. I have travelled far and I am still unsure of where I am going, nor when I will return”.
He stands, brave, just watching me and observing whether or not I am lying. Trying to cover up my shaky thighs and wobbly knees, I now have to use adrenalin to cease those thunder thighs from rubbing effortlessly. For the rubbing creating moisture tends to bruise me easily, if left alone for too long. He read my lies, wrote my wrongs and now squeals what bares resemblance to a Spanish melodic rhythm, from between his chattering teeth. Though I could be so wrong…
“What was that worry, you’re sorry you stopped by, you don’t want me to cry? Be upset over your lies. But I have envisioned your deceit and though I love every bone you own, all the flesh you undressed when you flashed my very eyes with lust and filled my heart with sour zest. I feel I now have to apologise for exposing my breast, for it was my nipple you caressed, arousing my labia till it bled. We both then bathed whilst playing games with my emotions, you turned and left insistent on leaving me for dead.”
How dare he, why won’t he leave. Was it something I done, perhaps something minute of which I said? For I know I did not beckon, nor did I ask those butterflies back who fled. Ok, so yes I lied. But I lied from between my thighs, and the cracks around my eyes all too well reveal what pain I cover up inside and though I tend to still pamper them with sheer cover. An effort prepared in vain to not emotionally disrupt my pride. Spare cover needed inside my bag, locked and stocked inside my Mac, don’t breath for a muscle spasm may attack.
I just wish the blue skies would arise; for it was then I knew and could smell my way back. To you, your thoughts do echo but I am saying nothing for a continuation would only lead me in.
Desire a few more hours at least, not to preach or teach or even read the current-less tied between my thighs. My pride, my pride, can someone please be its guide? I need to console myself, control you and ask you if you would kindly move. “Please kind sir, I am ok… I..I..I am ok. We can meet here again but just not today. I truly want to be alone, although the skies grey and the air biting my skin as though it feels no pain. I just want to go home and cradle my own pain, sit upon my windowsill watching, awaiting for the sun to surprise me with at least a glimpse of gamma-ray.
It’s a dark dark corner, in a dark dark place but I know Love will find me and ease this pain away. It’s a dark dark street, in a dark dark lane but I know only time will allow his presence to come a knocking and ease my fears from dark to light.