Out in the field, I chase you,
my paws feeling the reeds, yellow and green,
earth on my feet, sun warming my heart,
you look back for a moment,making sure I follow,
your scent travels to me in the breeze,
I can smell your body, and curves,
you blood pumping with excitement, beneath your soft skin,
closing in on my prey, fixed on you,
the chase, the hunt, it has all come to this,
for me and you.
I walk through the crowd, intense music playing like a fog. Flashing lights moving bodies, as I move on closer to you. My vision of you going from a haze to complete blackness, then back to a haze. I am entranced in you.
You are covered in streaks of fluorescent body paint. As am I. Your hair, skin and clothes all dusted in that burn red sand, skin Sunkist, eyes alive. All signs of being out in the desert to long.
You are excited to see me, to share the night with you. Under the stars, at this hippie festival.
The afternoons are long, your legs are longer. Here on the rooftop. I sit at a wooden table, a chair empty opposite me. You make your way to join. Your butt fills the chair. I breath you in. And know your skin. It’s warm here in the sunlight. Warmer still near you.
I hear a bird chirping, distant sounds of civilized life going on without me. You hold my hands. My palm exposed. Your fingers running from my wrist to finger tip. “Do you feel that?” you ask. Eyes fixed on mine.
This is where I am meant to be, squinting in the afternoon sun, with you.
I turn the hot and cold taps to find balance. Closing my eyes, letting water fall over my face. Most of the time I see myself as frantic, a mess.
My hair washed and combed, then tied up. Order. Shirt, aftershave and teeth done. I am already very far from the person I woke up as.
Looking at the translucent glass, sun glaring in. Refreshed.
BENT ON LOVE 