its about 2a.m in the morning, sitting here, with a glass of merlot on the armrest of my chaise. the only light is from the stars, the moon, the blinking lights from the sea, the lighthouse to my far right and the red glow of the cigarette in my fingers.
the scent in the air is invigorating. the sharp tang of sea salt and weeds, the smell of the palm trees, my cigarette, and the smell of lingering perfume on my skin. your scent.
as i lean back on the chaise to check on your sleeping form, the wind picks up abit, and a light thunder rolls, the call of a quick rolling summer rain. it make s me feel so alive, to witness the beginnings of life giving showers. this is what it feels like, i cant help but think, to witness the world in its element. a battle of sorts, between the stars and the clouds, the sea and the rain.
right on cue, a big fat raindrop hits my cheek, cools it. and i cannot move right now, and i watch my cigarette get put out by the random drops and my wine get diluted, impurified, by what is all pure from the heavens, and i feel the goosebumps on my skin, and the robe i have on sticks to my skin, as though it wants to mold itself into me, the way you did earlier...and just like that, my thoughts are back on you, but i need not turn to see if you are sleeping peacefully, you were always one for the rain. i remember, once upon a time, we would sit up and talk on the steps of your mother's porch, until the early hours of the morning, when people started going to work, and we would head back to your room and sleep. i remember when it started raining, mid confessions of love, and you took my hand, led me into your room, and oh my heavens when you dropped the soaked blanket, and the tee shirt you sleep in was stuck to you, and i couldnt tear my eyes away from you, and my mouth felt suspiciously dry...and there we were shivering in our night clothes, soaked to the bone, and i knew for the first time what it was to be so consumed with want that you want to weep. and the look in your eyes, as if you knew, and when you told me later, you got tired of waiting, got tired of the little kisses we shared...and you didnt know that before you lifted your hands and undressed i thought of you as my perfect little snowflake, so pure and sweet..so tender..and how after you leant in and took my tee shirt off, i was scared i was going to burn you with the intensity of my need. the wantonness of my desires. so unpure and ugly and-
you interrupt my train of thought, but that's okay, because i was so close to wake you up, to show you that everytime it rains, i dont sleep because i remember...always remember...
...it seems you do too...because you step into the balcony naked as the day you were born, only more...grown up. and you sit on my lap, and bury your face in my neck, shivering a little.
"you should put some clothes on"
"you should come back to bed"
you smile, because this happens everytime we come here, I want to witness the day being born, you want to be fucked against the railing of the balcony, and this is how it always starts.
but today, with the now light drizzle, and the orange tint of the sky, and memories of the past, i feel abit sentimental, and I cant help but think...
"marry me"
you laugh, and for a minute my whole world stops, and i want to take it back, maybe ten years is not enough to know that you cant stand it when someone leaves, maybe we fight too much. oh my god maybe she fucks other people, and im the only one who feels this way.
"stop it"
and i look up into your eyes because when you use that tone it means am always in trouble. and your face is cold, and closed, and the word snowflake fleets through my mind. and i have never in my life been scared except perhaps for when my mother fell ill. and my heart breaks when you open your mouth; and im watching that beautiful mouth open and it takes me a minute to hear what you say because im trying to memorize it for when you surely dump my ass...but then..
"you dont have a ring"
and am shaking my head..
"get me a ring"
and you are smiling, and i want to absolutely murder you, then hump your leg to orgasm, but then you kiss me, and i think maybe its better i f i kept you alive.
A/N: writing this from the head, so unplanned. and scared my boss is gonna walk in!
also...if you havent noticed, these posts are for the girl i will marry, hopefully i will propose more eloquently, and elegantly...but i know she will say yes.
ciao bellas
Friday 26 October 2012
Wednesday 17 October 2012
numbers in my head
every week day, at exactly 5:30 a.m...your alarm goes off. exactly 15 minutes of snooze time.
so basically you wake up at 5:45a.m
..Always get out of bed from the right side. no matter what side you wake up on. the bed cannot be next to the wall. its exactly four steps from the left wall. four steps to the right to your window seat that is exactly two feet long and two feet wide. with a side table that is one by one in feet. the table has one peach vase, with four peach calla lilies that are freshened up every Tuesdays. when you wake up, you take two minutes, to fill in your dream diary.
always the same:
time of getting into bed: 9:30
time of sleep: 10:p.m
in between, you read your entry from last nights dream. and count exactly 82 white sheep before you fall asleep. you turn off your lamp at 9:56p.m
focus.
when you wake up. you take four steps to your right. to your four by four foot window seat and open the drapes. then you pick up the yoga mat that is two paces to your right and two paces to your left from your boudoir. and you take 24 paces across the room to your door. turn on two lights.
from your bedroom door, it takes 32 paces to your kitchen. you turn on the kettle and take 16 paces to the bathroom door. four paces to the loo. at exactly 6a.m you take a piss. at 6:02 your lax kicks in. at 6:10 you have washed your face. and there is a green mug full of black steaming coffee. exactly four tablespoons for two mugs. its two steps from the kettle to the refrigerator, and two steps from the refrigerator to the microwave, that is two steps to be blender, that is two steps across from the water dispenser that is 8 steps from the cooker and oven that is six steps from the kitchen table.
it takes 4minutes for your coffee to steep, an extra two minutes to get to the right temperature. 42 degrees Celsius on a cold day like today. in those six minutes you do your morning stretching Pilates. exactly 4 sets of 20 reps of 8 moves. four songs.
at 6:16 you take your first cup of coffee and have it in the living room exactly 16 paces from your kitchen door. you seat on the couch that is two paces from the armchair that is two paces from your fireplace, and four paces to the love seat that is four paces to the bay window. that you don't like because its two centimeters crooked but you shrug cause you cant have everything.
at 6:20 you take a shower that lasts exactly 4 minutes. two minutes soap, two minutes rinse. you like the feel of the hot water on your skin. at 6:24 you get ready. you wear clothes you set out last night at 9:25. you feel like purple today, but its not Thursday so you wear black. its only tomorrow.
at 6:28 you put exactly half a cup of muesli in the bowl that you keep on a shelf two inches above your microwave with a spoon from the perch two inches from that shelf. exactly one cup of 50% cream milk and half a banana. gods you hate Wednesdays.
at 6:32 exactly eight banana pieces with the second spoonful of each count of 16 you wash your bowl and leave it to dry. you have your second cup of coffee.
you think about your day. and cross check your to-do list, diary and journal. at exactly 6:40 you leave for work. you always walk. cars can be so unreliable. traffic, and the wrong number of cars infront of you. just like you always take the stairs to the sixth floor. exactly 180 steps. elevators are dirty. and they would never allow you to admit four people per trip. and what if you get stuck??? with all those germs and people with the wrong length of ties and shoe laces. they would extract a comatose body by the time you get to your floor. like that time everyone thought you wouldn't notice if they moved your desk half an inch to the left... THE LEFT??!!! and you stabbed yourself with a pen because you didn't know what was happening...everything just felt so...wrong...and crawly..and wrong...and itchy and you had to make it stop.
but here you are....in front of the elevator...because the doctor says you have to try. TRY. the imbecile has the wrong level of nails. he wants you to trust your VERY EXISTENCE into his uneven nailed hand. but here you are... it might not be bad..you chant. especially when Cillian with the green eyes and black hair you want to smell smiles at you and waves you over......
(tbc...?)
so basically you wake up at 5:45a.m
..Always get out of bed from the right side. no matter what side you wake up on. the bed cannot be next to the wall. its exactly four steps from the left wall. four steps to the right to your window seat that is exactly two feet long and two feet wide. with a side table that is one by one in feet. the table has one peach vase, with four peach calla lilies that are freshened up every Tuesdays. when you wake up, you take two minutes, to fill in your dream diary.
always the same:
time of getting into bed: 9:30
time of sleep: 10:p.m
in between, you read your entry from last nights dream. and count exactly 82 white sheep before you fall asleep. you turn off your lamp at 9:56p.m
focus.
when you wake up. you take four steps to your right. to your four by four foot window seat and open the drapes. then you pick up the yoga mat that is two paces to your right and two paces to your left from your boudoir. and you take 24 paces across the room to your door. turn on two lights.
from your bedroom door, it takes 32 paces to your kitchen. you turn on the kettle and take 16 paces to the bathroom door. four paces to the loo. at exactly 6a.m you take a piss. at 6:02 your lax kicks in. at 6:10 you have washed your face. and there is a green mug full of black steaming coffee. exactly four tablespoons for two mugs. its two steps from the kettle to the refrigerator, and two steps from the refrigerator to the microwave, that is two steps to be blender, that is two steps across from the water dispenser that is 8 steps from the cooker and oven that is six steps from the kitchen table.
it takes 4minutes for your coffee to steep, an extra two minutes to get to the right temperature. 42 degrees Celsius on a cold day like today. in those six minutes you do your morning stretching Pilates. exactly 4 sets of 20 reps of 8 moves. four songs.
at 6:16 you take your first cup of coffee and have it in the living room exactly 16 paces from your kitchen door. you seat on the couch that is two paces from the armchair that is two paces from your fireplace, and four paces to the love seat that is four paces to the bay window. that you don't like because its two centimeters crooked but you shrug cause you cant have everything.
at 6:20 you take a shower that lasts exactly 4 minutes. two minutes soap, two minutes rinse. you like the feel of the hot water on your skin. at 6:24 you get ready. you wear clothes you set out last night at 9:25. you feel like purple today, but its not Thursday so you wear black. its only tomorrow.
at 6:28 you put exactly half a cup of muesli in the bowl that you keep on a shelf two inches above your microwave with a spoon from the perch two inches from that shelf. exactly one cup of 50% cream milk and half a banana. gods you hate Wednesdays.
at 6:32 exactly eight banana pieces with the second spoonful of each count of 16 you wash your bowl and leave it to dry. you have your second cup of coffee.
you think about your day. and cross check your to-do list, diary and journal. at exactly 6:40 you leave for work. you always walk. cars can be so unreliable. traffic, and the wrong number of cars infront of you. just like you always take the stairs to the sixth floor. exactly 180 steps. elevators are dirty. and they would never allow you to admit four people per trip. and what if you get stuck??? with all those germs and people with the wrong length of ties and shoe laces. they would extract a comatose body by the time you get to your floor. like that time everyone thought you wouldn't notice if they moved your desk half an inch to the left... THE LEFT??!!! and you stabbed yourself with a pen because you didn't know what was happening...everything just felt so...wrong...and crawly..and wrong...and itchy and you had to make it stop.
but here you are....in front of the elevator...because the doctor says you have to try. TRY. the imbecile has the wrong level of nails. he wants you to trust your VERY EXISTENCE into his uneven nailed hand. but here you are... it might not be bad..you chant. especially when Cillian with the green eyes and black hair you want to smell smiles at you and waves you over......
(tbc...?)
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