abience
“Love is not something we wind up, something we set or control. Love is just like art. A force that comes into our lives without any rules, expectations or limitations.”
The Duchess of Disenchantment
What we want is to fall upwards; toward the heights. Desire is a burning sun. You are bursting with citrus, dancing in ambrosia fields of flowers that bend for the bees. Stand on your tiptoes. Is the ascension worth the risk of failure?— The answer is always yes. Leave a trail of broken stems and petals in your wake. The fall is the only certainty we live with. You cannot escape the lessons. The only mistake in this world is not trying for the heart's desire.
I feel like a torn piece of paper. Ripped in a craggy zig zag. Whoever held me did not follow the edge or create a straight line. One side is bigger than the other, like my left breast. Sitting there, fatter than the right. Is everything weighted to one side? My body leans too far port. Whenever we fixed the sails together, Greg would call out the ship's direction in terms I did not understand. I’d scurry along under the mast, turning my ear to hear his whispers from the wind.
How to love well. This is the question. Simmering in my gut like a hot pan of scallops. I toss paprika on anything I can get my hands on. Seafood. White envelopes. Wet grass. Spice fuels the flavor and your kiss is what saved me. Hot, breathy, sandy, salty. I had to stand on my tiptoes. Mouth empty, hands full. Falling upwards with each crest that caught the boat. The sun would glitter like a silver spoon poised over a dish of paella. Infused with saffron and squid ink. Scoop by scoop, ridding the room of excess and piling the urge into a body.
The fall is the only certainty we live with; I try, I try, I try! The effort causes aches, and the only reprieve is to swim in a sea of grease and glitter. The equation of a life worth remembering is one of passion and persistence. I cannot give up hope, it would be my undoing. If it’s a lie, I will go there willingly. Stepping lightly on the cabin, avoiding shadows. To the rim of the starboard, the periphery is uncertain. When you look at me, I want you to remember the way your skin feels when it claps the freezing ocean. The way it rises and puckers in the whistling wind. Remember me, like this, standing on tiptoes full of citrus and sunlight. Ascension is always worth the risk of failure.
Photo source.
