Longer

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Longer.

This could be longer. This could be a long time. I can see us for a long time. Longer.
The words flash by; they slide by. I feel the need to reach out, to touch her.

“Yes.” I know. I feel like I’m becoming visible. I’ve loved her for hundreds of years.

And my mind is catching on something. We’re caught in this ballet, in this sweet chaotic choreography of emotion, like birds in flight. And my mind, lost in the joy of movement, is having a hard time with time.

It’s always so.

I still play poker with guys I’ve known since I was seventeen.

Floyd, our family medicine man, told me last year “you’re the only one who still comes around.”

Time wants to have a battle with me in the badlands. I can feel it waiting in the ache of my bones, in the little heartache I feel when, far away, I wonder if she is okay. I sense it when my siblings, spread to the wind, are blinking on and off in my consciousness like Christmas lights.  Those are the hints on the horizon of that coming fight. Inktomi, the trickster, is there to witness. What time doesn’t know is that the trickster is on my side.

After my cousin’s open heart surgery, I kept flashing back to that time we walked down the street to go see a matinee in Greenwood, hand in hand. I was fourteen, he must’ve been 6 or 7. It was called The Sting.

Thinking of it makes me laugh.

I need to land for a bit, I know. She’s talking about day to day practicalities. She needs me to say something. I’m learning the ebb and flow of our dance.

“Wow”. Longer would be better. Time to heal would be better. No more battles, not for today -my love is here. Let’s make it a river. It’s so fucking me.

Then, I remember, I’m the one who mentioned time.

It’s why we have gods.

It’s a river, baby. “Looking like a big one,” he says with his gap toothed smile.

Darkness Darkness

The moon this morning was still full, the sky so clear, the world seemed cracked open under it’s soft yellow gaze. As I walked with Jake, I felt my body relaxing. This, in so many ways, is how I pray -body first.

Eventually I reached a point where I could stand and see the moon centered on my skyline, the trees opened up, and I stood up straight and reached out with my mind. I prayed some more. I felt the distance and the vastness, I felt that darkness on the far side, and longed for the flight around that far curving arc. That desire to know that space pulls at my heart. And so, feeling her power, I asked for a blessing on my new love.

“You have the legs for it,” I’d told her the other night, her arms wrapped around me in a dark corner of a local pub. She’d said “ I wish these were my legs,” as she aqueezed me. My mind was lost in the softness of that long sweep of her inner thigh.

Like that long line of sky traveling round to the dark side of the soft full moon on this morning. This is my track and my love, and so I pray for us now.

We’re building a web of dark energy to sustain our magic, bar to pub, plant to tree, and watery depths. I know it was fueled by our darkness, our efforts to work out issues so hard and deep these past years, this in such close proximity to each other that our hearts seemed to be breaking from the acceleration.

“Dark matter is the invisible ‘web’ that holds galaxies together; … the even more mysterious force that is pushing the cosmos apart.” – Dark Matter Unveils First Results