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batmancake69

Tempus Fugit…

batmancake69

I drove thirteen hours, through the night, to a place I’d never been, to see her for the first time. It had been a year and a half of distance and circumstance. Then the opportunity struck and I took it, no preparation, just got into my car and went. A year and a half can be a long time. So many conversations, so many chats, so many love letters. Such pining, such yearning. I felt jittery, the entire trip, electricity just under my skin. When I arrived, I called her as I parked next to her apartment building. She hadn’t slept much, but the call woke her. “I’m here,” I said. “Oh, my God!” she squealed and hung up. She didn’t emerge from the building as I’d assumed she would, so I went around the corner and looked down the street. Almost a block away, there was a woman looking in my direction and as I drifted towards her, her hands went to her mouth, covering it. “It’s you,” I said aloud, though she couldn’t have possibly heard me at that distance. “It’s you,’ I said, again, and ran. I ran to her. I ran as hard as I have ever run. She stood there, her hands over her mouth, shaking, as I reached her and threw my arms around her and scooped her up and spun her and kissed her and kissed her and kissed her.

She loves that story. 

I once told her, that I thought we would always be kept apart, like a tragic Greek myth. ”One minute,” I told her, “one minute of having you, just one minute with the reality of you, would be more than what most people deserve in a lifetime”. Yet, we are together, still.

The minutes we thought we’d never have become hours, weeks, months. 

In the kitchen, she’s rinsing carrots and I come up behind her to kiss her cheek and say, “I ran to you. I kept kissing your teeth, because you couldn’t stop smiling. I called you ‘my girl’, over and over,” then, feeling her back melt against my chest.

A year goes by. A year of borrowed minutes.

We are at a dinner party, I take her hand in mine. She can’t hear what I whispered, but she must know what I said, because of the way she squeezes my hand.

And another year goes past.

We’re arguing and I tell her, “I ran so hard and when I reached you, I couldn’t keep my hands off of you. I still can’t”. She smiles, then laughs and we have the best make up sex anyone has ever known.

Minutes become years.

As we pass each other in the hallway, I stop her and pull her to me. She looks up at me with a very serious expression, getting out the words, “and I waited”. Then I kiss and kiss her, calling her “my girl” a great many times.

We are lying in bed, spent, naked. We are both too tired to get up and shut off the light. I look up at the ceiling and say, “I drove thirteen hours, through the night,  to a place I’d never been, to see you for the first time…”. She loves that story.

twcpoetry
pass-me-a-unicorn pass-me-a-unicorn

You thought I was a soul friend but really I was just the run-around, tucking you back into bed during the storm, leading you back home when you strayed too far. You didn’t come looking for something outside of yourself but rather to heal the black hole roaring inside of your soul - I was never the answer you were searching for but the catalyst… the fuse that wouldn’t stop until you got where you were needing to go. I helped, my purpose was served, and now I am gone. Whatever it was, it was enough for you to turn back home… and if for some reason you find yourself tangled up in the the arms and words of another lover, may I suggest that perhaps *you* are the storm… and frankly, you deserve better than that.

- 12/4/18, the universe turns what you want into what you need. say hi to the family.

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