kissing
October 11, 2007
The lake is a sheet of black glass, a mirror reflecting stars. Orion is there as he has always been, with his wide glittering belt and his bow and arrow.
We are curled together on his sleeping bag watching meteors, with their long tails of wild light so close to the earth tonight that they pop and whine like fireworks in an autumn sky.
An owl hoots somewhere in the distance, mournful and ghostly. The cry echoes through the woods, haunting as a tribal drum.
I’m leaning into him, his arm around my shoulders. His jacket smells like fabric softener and chewing gum.
I want to suck his bottom lip, to bite him until I bring his blood to the surface. I want his hands in my hair. I want him to moan, to break my skin with his fingernails.
Next thing I know, he’s kissing me.
He tastes like creek water, like apples. His sweat smells like autumn leaves— smoky, sweet and wild.
Suddenly, I feel like I’m underwater. The earth is shifting under my feet. There is no ground, no sky. The woods buzz all around me. The air crackles with magic, little electric blue explosions at the edge of my vision.
In this one quicksilver moment, the sun both rises and sets, the stars laugh and spin. Seasons are changing all around me…fall bleeding into winter, into spring, a rush of summer heat causing sweat to pool between my breasts.
My body is so full of light, it rises off me like a mist.
He holds me like a secret.
Desire thrums in my belly, branches there teeth first, then quick into my thighs, the soles of my feet.
I realize that I’m shaking, that there is so much tension wrapped into my blood, my bones, I’m sick with it and near to bursting.
“We should stop this. I’m killing you,” he murmurs, pulling back slightly.
My eyes flutter open and I find myself back in my dark, cold bedroom. Alone.
The light is gone.
