The Pace

A small gesture across the rim of a coffee cup leaving a slight clue to the arousal.  That slowly melting ice cap planted on her face, globally warming to my humor, my dork, my affection, and shrugging off any thoughts of my inadequacies and insecurities. A slight shift, aft, starboard, up, in her seat because the heat is building, feeling and thinking about me, what I’ve got, what I say; There’s that filthy look, those rosy petals that bloom and expand to meet and greet the deft flick that has my taste.  Consternation at the opening and cramming that’s to much at first, then boils the bunny that will probably die tomorrow.  A quiet place to lie her head slightly tilted left, a solid grunt of dropped weight on the big toe, then a yelp as the push forces the silence out.  Quiet and calm, gentle sun bending across nose, cheek, pillow, hips, then feet.

Two days of this, this, uh, thing, you know that we can’t really name.  Two more days as it forms and gets a timing, then weeks of more.  More quiet time, more pulling together the sinew holding together the braced barriers erected after many days with many others who couldn’t form the communal pool that holds us now. No breath, no forgiveness, or acceptance can erase it.  It falls to rubble slowly, chipped away at seconds of seconds of boredom and accusations that endlessly revolved around me being broken for not being broken.

Three point one five four times ten to the seven and it’s done. Almost pi, but not quiet the same. Less than tau would have been better.  More of everything would have been the best. So now it’s three point one five four times ten to the seven and it’s done.

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