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"am i too heavy on you?"
i don't really remember saying no. maybe i did, maybe i didn't; im sure i wanted to say 'no, i've never felt so weightless in my life.. don't move, don't ever move away from me...' but all i cld do was breathe. if i didn't say no, then he'd learned to read my breaths by then b/c he didn't move. he stayed with me, moved with me & i with him for the rest of that evening, well into the night, and again the next morning.
he asked me later after we were apart again what i missed the most, what i liked best about us being together. now i cld have said something lewd ('what'chu mean what did i like the most? all 8 of those inches, daddy.. that's what i miss best'); i cld have been mushy & overly emotional ('oohh, baby i just miss you.. youyouyouyou your smile your eyes your mind your emotion the way you made me feel just youyouyouyouyou always & only you..). and neither of those responses wld have been a lie, but i think
i think there is one greater truth that encompasses both those smaller sentiments. it's not just in the spiritual energy of our skin melding b/t our sighs, nor is it only the mixing of sweat & song between our legs.
we were our own truths in those hours we spent, oblivious to the sun or moon or stars or whatever was goin on in the sky arched beyond our curtains, pulled as tight as we cld get them to keep tomorrow from coming too soon.
i closed my eyes & tried to paint for him--for us--a portrait more beautiful than the moments we shared, but i was fooling myself. my words were heavy, pregnant with trust and longing and smiling and love and memory, and beauty, of course, but believe me when i say that there are no words bright or gray enough, no brush loud or soft enough to surpass or even equal the passion we painted w/ our sighs. none.
"our legs," i said.
i didn't have to say anything more, because he felt exactly what i meant and agreed, but i continued on, twisting my own legs as i remembered his entwined with them, tangled & glossed with sweat; we were so close. i imagine that it wld have been hard to wedge a breath too large between he & i as we lay, moving against each other, with each other, for each other. we must have been a sight; someone's foot pressed into someone's thigh, an ankle here, a calf there. a knee lolling lazily to the left, toes dancing at the right. yarn. two long strands of teasing brown and soft russet yarn praying into each other's mouths w/ evrykiss exchanged.
i blushed when he told me my legs felt good next to his. they did. they do even now, even though we're so many songs away now..
i remember him pressing into me and thinking that too close just wasn't close enough. i tightened my grip on his limbs & pulled him closer to me, further into me. i took him in, all of him, far beyond his throbbing addiction & the physical surges it gave, more than his scent & bright brown color. nah, more than that, i welcomed that moment & how it wld dwell in our minds the morning after; i drank in our circumstance, the grace that led us to each other & as much of his life as i cld hold before the nectar became too sweet. and when it did, i let it run slow from our mouths down, snaking between the tiny hairs of his body and mine to be lost in the maze of our legs, the physical ties that bound us at that moment & the manifestation of our togetherness, even from so many songs away.
"u sure i wasn't too heavy on you?"
i'd trade heaven to feel that weight again & i'm sure that god wld understand.
but i'm a hater, tho
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