Tempted and Distracted From Life

(written about October 2010)

You had me at “Good Morning, Sunshine”, when I realized I was embarrassed to wonder if you heard me snoring in his cab. A birthday night out. I tried to compete for your attention with the lovely and limber ladies of the stage by taking a dollar bill from you to share in our appreciation of their beauty. I tried to draw you in, though I don’t recall you reacting to my head upon your shoulder - not that night anyway. Perhaps you were afraid of the inevitable addiction to the fact that I can see your soul with a hungry look into your eyes. Oh those eyes.

A parking lot project. Just a lock of hair off your neck and over your ears. And one off the top, for good measure (next time tell her three fingers long…)…revealing your masculine: face, eyes, chin, jaw, and mouth. Oh the shape of that mouth. At my house. There were smoothies to be made, hooting owl wisdom to ponder, and silly music on the keyboard, as my spirits danced with the rhythm of stolen glances and somewhat awkward silences. One beer too many had me requesting marital relief from hurdling too many bones spilled out of my commitment closet. “Your Taxi Is Here” was just the beginning of a blur of conversations pushed out in haste by the tips of my shaking fingers. Pursued at inopportune times – in the bathroom, in my lap, or in the dark. And always on silent.

“Slow down!” I would think aloud in your presence. Though who really wants to stop a locomotive filled with sweet everythings?! Fast paced speech working around the titanium ring I could almost bite through with my suppressions. Sounds of saliva sucked from a lip corner as words like throat and more are formed make my legs wiggle involuntarily. How do you seem to do it? If lust is 98 percent mental and 2 percent pushing the right buttons – then I reluctantly admit that I can’t get you out of my head or keep your desires from flipping my switch. To on. Onto. Into. Inside out and upside down. In a box and spun around. If I’m in here and you’re out there. How do I get out, if I were to dare? Asphyxiated by my own choices and wishing…wishing…that…I had a crystal ball…