I think I am going to let this one stand alone. No explanation, no nothing. But it is in lieu of something I totally saw coming...
The Odometer Reads Sideways Infinity
800 miles.
That is what I traveled.
Through stone and snow and pine, I drove my heart,
an angry fire screaming down the path of quiet sorrow
inflamed in desire for your secluded love.
A red-hot core burning through my bone and brine moaned
and creaked for you, like a house yet filled, swelling and shrinking
in the winter's chill, a hope enshrouded in graveyards and fences.
800 miles.
A drink, a whisper, a secret smile, and your hand is on
the small of my back - that sweet dip that beckons imagination,
that slopes into dark dreams and beautiful answers to anxious questions.
I lead you away from roaring crushes and milling crowds,
from the prying eyes of your friends who dare to flirt,
who could not know how deep this curiosity goes.
Your urgency follows me into the night as
you lead me off to a place of lonely music and warmth.
800 miles.
A cup of tea is a cup of trust -
you know I would not lead you here if I did not want more.
You kissed me, a happy rule broken into a promise made.
My head lies in the soft cloud of pillows and sighs as
your hands span my body, lovely cartographers,
and your strong body eclipses the fervent shudders of mine.
You pull at my hair, a briar patch in which you lose your mind.
I claw, scream into sheets in which you will undoubtedly smell my musk
weeks after I depart your embrace, hoping
that our dream will not die.
Morning comes, a somber reminder of the real world, and
I slip away, not knowing where you stand.
I do not say good-bye, but touch your shoulder,
silent, reverent farewell.
After a night of travel and one more of your love, I,
bleary-eyed, look at my odometer. 800 miles.
This is how far I went to find you and make you mine.
800 miles is how much further, if not more, I would go to keep you.
