Reel

Sometimes I feel I'm living a reel, a badly edited one.

Yours and mine

Let’s remain this way. Let’s not look for names. Mine whispered in your ears and yours in mine. That will get us by. We are entities, we will remain, intertwined, separated, even distant. Our whispers will unite, our bodies, our names too. Sometimes I try, I can’t distinguish the smell of my perfume without yours, mine without yours. We’ve spent many nights, days even, holding on to catch our own breaths, touching just for reassurance.

Nakedness is a giveaway, clothes keep your from being, wires from breathing. Let loose, and all pours out, somewhere between yours and mine our space takes shape. This territory we tread with care, your ways are different from mine. You want me, body and mind; you want me not to look away. I stare, at all these times I stare into nothingness, I look for thoughts, and they are all over. I can’t gather them and it troubles me. The lines on my forehead betray, with a little practice I can keep them away. The images are transient, of you and me, our silhouettes in darkness. The sounds brief, of breathing, churning, of bills floating on the floor. Your skin feels warm against mine, it always does, and I know when my feet are turning cold. A story is building in my head, I wonder how it will sound when I write, and it makes me smile. You see it; you tell me I’m warm inside. I believe you, I let your fingers trace me; let you engulf the warmth you say you can feel.

I’ve thought of names, just as you have. I’ve remembered and let myself forget. I’ve never wished to see, speak even. I let the touch wander until I can feel it no more. You say I’m beautiful; I don’t want to hear it. Your hands speak enough; mine are numb, just as I am. Strangely, I can feel your breath; it’s a rhythm I can’t forget. A memory perhaps, I can even count. You crush me against yourself; my breasts feel tender when pressed against you. I feel the space diminishing, and then there is none. I hold you tight; my hands feel small on your back. I don’t want to give away; I don’t want to give in. I could keep this moment and every smell it brings. It’s now when my thoughts vaporize. I know it wont last, the memory of it will. I can feel your lips against my skin; I know you can taste it. We’ll remain, etched in time, etched in these walls, the sheets, our bodies our hands. Your lips suckle mine, I can’t get to close my eyes, I can’t soak in them, I can’t disconnect. The thoughts linger, I take time. I feel your hands on my body when they are away. My lips entice you, I can barely kiss. Kisses are for keepsakes, they stay for long after. I know you can feel it, you know I am shivering, you choose not to notice. I clutch and you know you don’t understand. We separate.

The space widens, mine and yours, ours barely visible. You lie on your back, the rhythm continues. I ache to feel you closer, I rest on you, your armpits ease me, your frame clear in the morning light. The sheets are soothing, our clothes a tangled mess, straps and fabric, I push them away. We drift into our worlds, yours and mine, separate. We let the gap widen, reaching out for embrace, a few times. My hands feel trapped under yours, my body is frozen, pain and numbness take turns, and I am scared to breathe. My fears lurch outside the door; they lie slumbering in those clothes. I can feel your pulse settle, I can feel ours unite, I can even hear the throbbing, rhythmic, a single rhythm. I lie awake as you fall asleep, I always do. I can almost feel it, as it takes over you. You are warm, still warm, it’s settling on my body. I remember heat transfer theories; I know I’m making you cold. I drift to school and back, I think of my backyard, I think of only one. I wonder what you’d say if you could read my thoughts, I wonder if you will talk. You turn away from me; I do the same, almost in reaction. We are now, you and I, two different worlds.

I’ve been there before, I’ve returned. I dread you being awake, I dread stepping out. The hours are passing; I can feel the sunlight on bare skin. I want to keep you from it, I want to protect, own perhaps. I fear too much, my body weakens me. I wait for sleep, long for your gaze. I reach out for you; you keep my hand and turn away. I’m afraid to move, afraid to think, scared of what touch can do. I know when you’ll be awake; I’ve watched you wake up. You hold me close, I know it’s time. I fight the thoughts, I want the moment, and I can’t hold it. I always hold you at the door, I’ve never known why. I know you will leave, the space will be mine, mine alone. I’ll sleep with your smell and wake up to it. I will sleep naked.

How do you do

Me (to friend who just moved to London): How is life there?
Friend: You can smoke in bed and kiss on tubes, the rest is the same.