Schedule

It's a new week. A Sunday, a new beginning. A day to wake up with the sun, stretch my arms and rip the curtains off the wall with eagerness to face this day! You lay next to me, chest rising and falling in a peaceful sleep. And in that moment its easy to forget that even in paradise, the sun sets.

Monday comes with the shock of the alarms ringing in my head. Responsibility crashes around me and I open my eyes, still tired and trying to do the math of how many hours, minutes and seconds until I can sleep again. Until the world fades again and the hurting stops and I can float away into the ether of a blessedly dreamless void.

Tuesday breaks through; a smack to the face with none of the comfort of an accompanying splash of water. Another day, another dollar; as the saying goes. But I'm already running on fumes and there's nothing you can buy for a dollar these days. Not even a 20 minute phone call, much less the motivation to rise above the muck where I swim with the other "dregs." Oh darling, I wish you were here.

Wednesday and I'm halfway out of the dark. I'm already thinking about you and I have to believe that what I'm thinking is the reason that it's called "Hump" day. I can't focus on anything but the memory of when you'd bend me at the waist, pull me back slowly, fuck me hard and whisper softly into my neck that I'm yours. I want to give you the air I breathe and I'm caught up in the pleasure of the pain,  because even if it's moving too fast, baby, we should take it too far.

Thursday I dreamed that we were together and you wanted me as much as I want you. I held you in my arms and made you safe. You thanked me with a kiss and as the fireworks burst behind my eyes I thought to myself, "why does my tongue feel so damn safe inside of your mouth?" And I fall again.

Friday I sat under the stars thinking about you and wondering if maybe, just maybe you were thinking about me too. Only to see the answer in the light of the moon. You're like perfection, some kind of holiday, you got me thinking that we could run away. Into your vision of the future, through the looking glass you held in front of our faces. The shimmering reflection of what we could be.

Saturday I woke up wanting to kiss you. I crave your touch making me feel like I'm being electrocuted. I crave your lust-filled eyes fixed on me as the only being worth conquering in this universe. I want to taste you again, like a secret or a sin. I think about pressing my lips against yours; fusing our bodies together. Each of us desperately searching for something the other doesn't know is inside them. Thousands of years old, too old to be captured in poems. Too old to be loved by everyone; but loved deeply by a chosen few. 

It's a new week. A Sunday, a new beginning. You lay next to me, chest rising and falling in a peaceful sleep. Looking at you, I realize, you're the perfect example of falling for someone's soul before their skin. Because as beautiful as you are through all the days; I didn't truly love you until I'd memorized the sound of your laugh and swam in the blue of your eyes.