Once more . . .
We find ourselves here again.
And sure,
I see how life is cyclical.
I can see how things change,
or how we go off in different directions,
only to bring us back in full-circle.
And here we are,
looking back in a state which is all too surreal
and all too realistic, but hey
Reality –
It’s a real trip . . .
(Que no?)
It is a few days short of springtime now.
My side of the planet is beginning to thaw,
and I swear,
it seemed like only yesterday—summer was here
the sun was high at noon
and the winds were warm,
my skin was tanned
and my hair was blonde from the sunlight.
I welcome this, you know?
Then again, the seasons come
regardless of whether we welcome them
or not.
And life works the same way . . .
life comes for us all,
regardless of whether we agree with the changes
or not.
Either way,
It is March —
The sands of time have not stopped
nor has the hourglass tipped in either direction
to slow things down.
The warm ideas of summer are with me now,
and you . . .
you are in my thoughts as well,
bathing in the sunlight – you and I
away somewhere on white sands,
palm trees, blue waters
secluded as ever,
laying back and glistening
with oiled skin—tanned and sexy, like a slow-moving dream.
Meanwhile,
the wind blows over your body
and the waves fold onto the beach.
This is cyclical too, — the waves I mean
because they come in
and then recede,
and then the waves come in again,
to express the rise and fall
of the Great Mother’s chest
breathing.
It is not too far from me . . .
You
the beach
my dreams
and the heat of my excessive needs
which, I admit,
are needy, perhaps, and maybe I am too needy; yet,
I stand behind my needs,
and rightly so.
I stand behind them without apology
because, like you,
I am alive and breathing
and hence,
this means I have life in my veins
and love in my heart.
This means that I have feelings
I have emotions, wants, desires
and needs that cannot go unnoticed
(or untouched).
But just so you know,
it is not unusual to want more
nor will I apologize for wanting more
or needing more
or thinking of you more
especially this way:
your curves,
or the sight of your gentle silhouette
when the sun goes down,
which is colorful, to say the least;
orange and golden in an almost fiery light,
touching against your skin in the small moments of sunset
beautiful and tempting
making me want you more
after a long day beneath the sun.
Is it me?
Is it us?
Is this just a natural aphrodisiac
which teases me or,
is this what allows us to be more
animalistic and ferocious?
Is this what drives me wild?
Wild, I say, and yes,
I am wild
but even the animal in me
wants to explore your love.
And you . . .
You are far more than the sun.
You are more cosmic and more meaningful to me
and with more mystery
and appeal than all the constellations
combined.
You are more than all the fables, myths and fairy tales.
To me,
you are more than Aphrodite, Goddess of Love
and more than Andromeda, daughter of Cepheus
and daughter of Queen Cassiopeia of Joppa
and wife of Perseus,
who rescued and saved Andromeda
from the sea monster, known as the Kraken
with the severed head from Medusa
who was sent by Poseidon; yet,
Perseus came to her rescue.
You are this to me and more
because not even the Titans can come
or take you away. While
my name is not Perseus,
nor am I favored by Zeuss
Still . . .
I would face the Titans
if it would mean that you
would be my queen.
It is morning where I am now
which is somewhere new, and somewhere old
and cyclical as well, which means
that I am sitting in the fold
or in the crease
between the pages of my aftermath
and the next chapter.
Once more . . .
this is surreal as ever, and odd too
as if to say
wow . . .
So this is what that feels like.
I know that the stars will align
and the sun will be warm again soon,
and whether we agree of not,
life has a way of turning the page
and bringing us back here
which is exactly where we need to be
Once more . . .
The Written Addiction 