Monday, February 23, 2009
All done with love. How did this happen so suddenly. How is it that I sat within touching distance of you and was not overwhelmed by your scent. This thing gone stale perhaps, the scent of unwashed sheets and a general emotional listing towards decay. Still I love you in a different way. Always this love that is less fierce, this care for you. I care for you. But the sex was not there the last time we met and there is no longer the same kind of urgent longing. I am not wet when my knee touches yours on the bus. I do not want to bury my head in your neck. I look at your lap, your morning-glory buried beneath the taught sheet and I do not want to press myself against you. I want nothing but to make you coffee and hug you when you are sad and to chat, often, and honestly. How did this happen so quickly and will it last. Will I be sad if it lasts. Will I be lost and lonely alone with my small world and it's ever so small concerns?