It Was A Dark and Stormy Love — May 10
The plane landed and then it stormed. It was a scene in many many movies, yet when real, it feels as if the stomach is on the runway, worried in the waiting and the hope. the rain does not wash away the past but intensifies the moment.
The rain falls on the face, refreshing and clean at first, then quickly taunting.. It worms its way into the shoes, like worms underground. Intruding, diminishing.
The wait continues. Heart is battling head. She will emerge, the heart says. Im getting soaked, the head says, and no one else is walking down the concourse.
At home the dogs wait in eager anticipation, the wine is ready, the cozy rooms and the breezy rooms primed and proud, the home ready for the warmth of love, unforgettable eyes, breathing that has shredded calmness.
One needs not a masters in architecture to understand the beauty of a simple amazing shoulder, skin exposed teasingly but perfectly, the simple lighthouse to guide one through the shoals of the swirling water and rocks and affection and desire and to the realization into the pure honest and rapture of two as one. A bolt of lightning not from the storm in the sky but the storm caused by a simple desire to kiss that skin that seems to be there for you.
She is the secret centerpiece of my life and my heart. When the Catholic DNA can launch the mysticism of whipped cream and strawberries, it is clear we scoop and create in perfect harmony. we can see, as Goldilocks really told us, there are planets that entertain life right along side of us, where family thrives and urges us to open our eyes and arms.
Having laughed with me and let me love you, she understands it and smiles again.
The rain has become fierce, unexpectedly, commanding. The sliding door must be closed for now.
she says she wants me to whisper in her ear when she awakens on a rainy day. i so long for that. she was teasing, alas. Tis a pity, shant you not this morning.
my lover always, whether here or there…