This Winter // By My Love Do You Still Live?

This winter I had a lot on my mind I didn't want on my mind.  I distracted myself with eating baked goods, sweet and indulgent.  Too indulgent.  I masturbated frequently.  Nearly every night, couldn't get enough.  My pussy began to smell like a bakery and I tasted too sweet.  My cum began to taste like cake, like cookies.  I can't imagine my blood sugar.

I didn't want to think about him; about all I had missed.  About myself and whatever it meant.  My mind was on its existential edge.  It was too much.  I needed these distractions.  I needed all those sweets and every hesitated breath just before my tiny explosions.  I needed to breathe, and then to sleep.  When I found my mind wander to him I thought about his time on the edge, his untouchable misery, and the unstoppable peace he must have felt in the final moments of his own breath.

Blood is life.  He fed the fishes somewhere off the coast of California.  But that's not what I want to remember, what I want to know of him.  Sometimes I don't even want to remember what I remember of him, of our uncanny friendship.  I want to know him for all the great things he did after I knew him, the him I didn't get to meet.  The older him who persisted to be exceptional at all he did.  His deft use of his hands, the quickness of his sharp mind.  He saved lives.  What must his heartbeat have felt like?  Under pressure, in tense moments?  The heartbeat I knew was in a tender time.  It rested beneath me as we watched that movie.  It fluttered its own rhythm under a cotton oxford shirt every time we embraced.  It coursed through the hand I held when we were just friends, only ever just friends.  It was nothing and everything.  And it's all I'll get to know.






Spring into Summer 2015