Ruck: ah...i can feel it!
me: Do you think as a writer, you can write about something completely foreign to you?
and it be good
Ruck: a question first...is anything, topic, experience, emotion foreign?
3:00 PM me: yes yes!
that's what i'm exploring!
if we try to write about these things
will we see more humanity?
3:01 PM Ruck: i think life is interconnected. our knowlege or experiences related to issues, emotions, etc. vary, but i dont think anything is foreign...
3:02 PM i think you should go for it. there are always gradations...explore those and the nuances.
3:03 PM me: yes yes I am I will
I hope I can do it justice
Ruck: you will.
Now I ask you readers... did I?
Tonight we stayed in,
laying in my basement apartment
the sound of the rain
mimicking the footsteps
just above us.
If we listen closely we can hear the wind whisper
sweet nothings into our window panes
the fog makes visibility difficult,
so tonight there is no need to close the curtains.
The light peaking from the bathroom
eclipses the darkness outdoors
just enough to keep the shadows of passersby
dancing across our skin
something about the mood
is warm.
ice chips melt in the salt settled along
my tongue from the heat in the room
the center of my chest shines
from the perspiration not quite intense enough
to form beads.
and just inches away from me
I can feel your thoughts
rising and falling with every breath you take.
when you exhale
i feel the air from your lips
dance across my eyelids
each time you speak,
your voice echoes, booms,
beats...
and a steady baseline
runs down my spine.
Something about the mood,
is warm
like the spot between
your chin and your neck
i kiss you softly there,
lips slightly parted,
moist-
warm.
i feel your fingertips
tapping at my thoughts,
understanding...
gripping them effortlessly
opening your mouth to tell me
you're thinking the same thing
feeding me the last bit of chill in the room
just before it melts
my hair intertwined in your french tips
and you taking the words out of my mouth
slowly,
the texture of your taste buds
grabs each moan, protest, hesitation
and swallows them
digesting any doubts.
I run my finger across your collar bone
admire the richness of your skin
marvel at the bareness of your chest.
as each wall comes down,
i begin to see you take shape
there is beauty in the lithe rotundness of your form
and nervous and excited energy
nibble where there is meat
biting just hard enough
for us to hear the steel
tapping against my teeth.
she speaks...
stand up, i want to see you.
her eyes look through me,
small hands
slide up my legs,
cup my bottom
and peel away the fabric separating us.
I can feel the heat from my pores
warm her palms
she hums across the small of my back
I am ready.
i return with curious hands,
sit her down for questioning...
gently part her point of prayer
and lay my cheek
just on the inside of her thigh
I stop
I want to remember this scent.
I suck my index finger
and slowly beckon her center
I whisper,
I want to make you come.
back arched,
protracted-
one hundred eighty degrees
perfection requires balance
and i find myself nestled equally
between multiple pairs...
Something about the mood,
is warm...
[to be continued]
laying in my basement apartment
the sound of the rain
mimicking the footsteps
just above us.
If we listen closely we can hear the wind whisper
sweet nothings into our window panes
the fog makes visibility difficult,
so tonight there is no need to close the curtains.
The light peaking from the bathroom
eclipses the darkness outdoors
just enough to keep the shadows of passersby
dancing across our skin
something about the mood
is warm.
ice chips melt in the salt settled along
my tongue from the heat in the room
the center of my chest shines
from the perspiration not quite intense enough
to form beads.
and just inches away from me
I can feel your thoughts
rising and falling with every breath you take.
when you exhale
i feel the air from your lips
dance across my eyelids
each time you speak,
your voice echoes, booms,
beats...
and a steady baseline
runs down my spine.
Something about the mood,
is warm
like the spot between
your chin and your neck
i kiss you softly there,
lips slightly parted,
moist-
warm.
i feel your fingertips
tapping at my thoughts,
understanding...
gripping them effortlessly
opening your mouth to tell me
you're thinking the same thing
feeding me the last bit of chill in the room
just before it melts
my hair intertwined in your french tips
and you taking the words out of my mouth
slowly,
the texture of your taste buds
grabs each moan, protest, hesitation
and swallows them
digesting any doubts.
I run my finger across your collar bone
admire the richness of your skin
marvel at the bareness of your chest.
as each wall comes down,
i begin to see you take shape
there is beauty in the lithe rotundness of your form
and nervous and excited energy
nibble where there is meat
biting just hard enough
for us to hear the steel
tapping against my teeth.
she speaks...
stand up, i want to see you.
her eyes look through me,
small hands
slide up my legs,
cup my bottom
and peel away the fabric separating us.
I can feel the heat from my pores
warm her palms
she hums across the small of my back
I am ready.
i return with curious hands,
sit her down for questioning...
gently part her point of prayer
and lay my cheek
just on the inside of her thigh
I stop
I want to remember this scent.
I suck my index finger
and slowly beckon her center
I whisper,
I want to make you come.
back arched,
protracted-
one hundred eighty degrees
perfection requires balance
and i find myself nestled equally
between multiple pairs...
Something about the mood,
is warm...
[to be continued]
J. Yes. Yes u did.
ReplyDeleteThe way, without the preface, I would've never thought u were speaking of anythng foreign. The familiarity n ur terms ... acute descriptions of textures, sounds, thoughts, ambience ... n each line I picture myself being that 1 passerby u probably should've closed the blinds 4.
U amaze me.
first, those tags...
ReplyDeletesecond, i am almost certain this warm and tingly feeling inside speaks volumes to my formerly latent sexual..."you don't know him."
third, the above comment...
this jont deserves two snaps and a stack of 73 fifty dollar bills.