More than a hook up

A month or two ago the reality of motion came to me. Could see clearly that if you so wished it the universe would deliver. Back then I had to step back for I was not ready. Men zapped in and out of my life and I watched wondering. Like those underwater highway currents that carry life around the world’s waterways, the motion was too immediate. I was stuck outside. The world just kept spinning and I had to just keep swimming. Legs were sinking, arms flapped; it was not a graceful technique but I propelled myself nonetheless. Eventually what I so desired in the purest of moments found its way to me.

The law of attraction has brought this man to me. And I relish him. Taste him. Knowing that he is for a reason and perhaps also for a season. He will help heal me in the way only sex can. It is a healing that I could not do on my own. It is the laying of hands. Of touch. Of communion. It’s is the rise and fall of being consumed. It has begun. But there is no going back on desire to shift the gift into something of substance. The use of mirrors and mirage is a false magic. The universe can not be tricked. Only time and the natural contradiction of chaos can manipulate. He will go soon. Best to be greedy. Take all the opium. Snatch it without hesitation. Give myself over to him. To the healing. To the making of a temporary love. I mustn’t worry about throwing doubles and keeping him or claiming him for death might come to claim me and then no one will belong. That’s the reality isn’t it? No one belongs. We are simply gifts. Existing, clashing, nuzzling up against one another. My gift to him is open and bare. It is a surrender. It is new and now. It will no doubt cease with embers smoking down, down. But not to worry. Today the heat is real and there will be another match. The universe and I will command it into being.

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