too much.


not really too much. way too fast. the room much more bearable lying down. my body draped over fleece-lined jacket covering years of dust. bolts in the beam made bench pressing into me, knees pressed awkwardly against the wooden floor.

i drop my head down, letting gravity take over and close my eyes, chin pressing into fleece against wood, the world dark and calm. eyes closed, spinning in dark, i can feel me slowly spiraling down and up and left and right, out of control i can't stop i don't know where to turn and i can't stop falling stop dropping

(she catches me)

by the back of my neck. she has caught me and brought me back down (up) to earth, slowly tracing her hand travels through my knoted hair, fingers caressing each hair separating out and apart on finger traces to an ear, behind to hair and back to the nape of the neck where it sits, ready to catch again a falling me before i get too far along. another shift

to her leg i raise my head up and move to the left, ever so slightly to her three dollar salvation army pants cheek pressing into thigh coming ever closer being able to feel her smell some people (recently washed or always like that) smell that they have and feeling the comfort of being sheltered.

the hand continues tracing lines across scalp as i drift off again, falling straight through the spiral straight up to that place

that place where we have all been at one time or another where the only thing that exists is you and your (my) thoughts and i am

held there by her touch.

talk to me | take it from the top
once upon a time | old school stories
what | who | more