PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

it remains

Sunday, Sept. 19, 2004
Yesterday we laid down on the bed. We barely spoke. His hands hurt, his arms hurt, his back hurt...everything was pained. I massaged the landscape of his skin, his muscles underneath crouching away from my fingertips. Smoothing away the hours of labor…I labored wordless. I moved next to him, his ribcage plucking my heartstrings with each breath. I laid my head against his torso with every movement of my hands. His breathing was shallow, his movements minimal and his groan of appreciation great. The weight of his body upon mine was a gift I silently thanked god for. Each pass of my hands across the enclosure of his heart made my mind shiver with hope. In the end I pulled the sheets up over my empty body, my heart souring to where his had gone because where there is love, it remains.
1:29 p.m. ::
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