like a poem made from the sea

for you
He walked up to me, I could see the love and the insecurity and the longing and the regret and the carefullly evaluating thoughts painted in his pale face. He smiled as he saw me sitting against the wall, nodding my head away to music he couldn't hear. Hey my love.
It seemed as if we hadn't seen each other in years whereas in fact it had been only five or six days. An eternity. My heart jumpstarted right there. I packed my stuff, carefully as to win a little time, akward time, and continued my dance on egg shells.
Traffic...Friday night...I am so pissed....I don't have much time...
Why don't you stay with me my love
I can't. Please.
why
Please, I just have to go.
Words just seem to never come true.
At the appartment I went to the kitchen and grabbed some apple sauce. The ktichen was slumberly dark. He grabbed me around my waste. With one hand balancing the applesauce with the other hand caught up in his curly black hair my body flooded over him like the high tide. The bed squeaked. I stopped, ate the apple sauce, carefully, slowly, smiling at him. He was already gone, washed away by passion and the lack of physical attention during the last past days.
I have to see you tonight, he had said. I need to see you, kiss you. Otherwise I am going to explode.
Yeah right, I had thought, yeah right. You need a fix. But what about love.
I fell right there. Into his eyes, into the abyss of desperate and intense longing, we tried to hold on to each other while wild rhythms of love beat our bodies up. Like drummers in the dark did desire and love and lust dance their greedy dances. The phone rang - like what? didn't somebody say, whenever you ARE you should turn your phone off? - in the middle of mystically prescribed ways, circeling patterns that the oceans taught us long long time ago. It was like a thrill, reality check one two. He has to go. A little longer. A little longer. But not far enough for me. Him leaving tore just another hole into my heart. Don't think it isnt torture for me either. I can't say anything. sometimes, sometimes, despite all kingdoms you know you have, you have to let go of the queen inside of you and just take what you can get. Without regret.

I didn't even want to go so far. I thought we wouldn't do it.
Me neither. I actually was quite sure I would say no.
I mean, you are my girlfriend. I said to myself we would sit down and talk.
yeah. we laughed.
we did talk, in a better way. But you didn't really hear me. You were washed away. Who can blame you. I can blame you. Blame you for not being here enough to learn how to listen. There is no instant listening programme. There is no such thing. Even not in America.