Laying down at night use to excite me. New adventures waited
for me under the sheets. An exhilarating feeling of hopefulness sprouted
between these thighs. I was ready for what was to come next. But that all
changed once complacency arrived.
Where did the adventure go?
Was it masking
itself as something that it wasn’t just to play in the pond?
Did it lose its
sense of wanting, Its desire for exploration?
Was it bored with me?
Did you lie
to me with the thrust from your hips and the passion that dripped you’re your
lips after a long intense kiss?
Were we in the land of make believe and once
daylight hit all things reverted back to how they really appear?
Are we just
stuck in the glitch in the Matrix?
What does freedom look like? Feel like?
These
questions are what runs through my head when brown skin on brown skin form
triangular like shapes between the sheets, or is it squares?... Either way I’m
bored. I want to feel the passion warming my skin. The energy that burns off of
you should light a fire inside of me. Regulate my temperature with the beat of
your heart. Turn me on with the fire of desire that lights up when your eyes
look into mines. Let me know without a word or a touch that we are connected.
Love me again. I’m beginning to believe that love may not exist, at least not
in the way that it’s defined in literature or movies. Maybe instead of calling
it love we should call it Understanding.
Understanding:
realizing that this shit won’t last this way forever and it’s all subject to
change without advanced notice. YUP...understanding! Understanding that
sometimes the perfect picture that’s graphed in our memory is an abstract form
of art. From this moment on I have served my brain (heart) notice, love is
void. It’s flawed. It’s complicated. It’s forever changing. It’s not what we
thought it was. It’s understanding. Yeah, Love = understanding.