(no subject)
the sun traced down through my blinds early and woke me this morning.
i leaned up on and elbow and pulled the blinds, slid the window open.
it was just cool slant light and thick air dropping down over me. i slept and we all rolled farther under the sun.
i woke again in the heat and smell of grass and smell of flowers blushing up the draw a few yards out my window. i slid the sheet over. lay there and sweat still.
on a road trip when you're sitting in the backseat with your head up on the window and close your eyes, starting to fall asleep and the sun in laying down on you. Wake up you move just a bit. and feel all along your arms and neck a thin sheet of sweat. and thats a good memory.
so i watched the ceiling for awhile putting the texture together into twisting faces, strained architecture, slinking animals. and that heat just poured down from the window and rolled out across my body.
i got up and the sheets were damp and i walked to the shower. kept the light off and turned it on cold.
in texas i was young and made love to a girl in the canals along the barrier island out there. it would be in the long evenings we get down there, with no hills or trees to cut back the sun, night takes its time in showing. the water was warm and we'd climb out on her deck after fitting our suits back on straight. leave our wet prints on the wood and step along the side of her house to an outdoor shower head. the water was always cold. and there was nothing there to block us from the view of the canal, but we made love again, against the wall of her house. quiet and kissing to keep the words in. hearing the echos of laughter of her parents cooking inside the house.
i leaned up on and elbow and pulled the blinds, slid the window open.
it was just cool slant light and thick air dropping down over me. i slept and we all rolled farther under the sun.
i woke again in the heat and smell of grass and smell of flowers blushing up the draw a few yards out my window. i slid the sheet over. lay there and sweat still.
on a road trip when you're sitting in the backseat with your head up on the window and close your eyes, starting to fall asleep and the sun in laying down on you. Wake up you move just a bit. and feel all along your arms and neck a thin sheet of sweat. and thats a good memory.
so i watched the ceiling for awhile putting the texture together into twisting faces, strained architecture, slinking animals. and that heat just poured down from the window and rolled out across my body.
i got up and the sheets were damp and i walked to the shower. kept the light off and turned it on cold.
in texas i was young and made love to a girl in the canals along the barrier island out there. it would be in the long evenings we get down there, with no hills or trees to cut back the sun, night takes its time in showing. the water was warm and we'd climb out on her deck after fitting our suits back on straight. leave our wet prints on the wood and step along the side of her house to an outdoor shower head. the water was always cold. and there was nothing there to block us from the view of the canal, but we made love again, against the wall of her house. quiet and kissing to keep the words in. hearing the echos of laughter of her parents cooking inside the house.