And then, just when I get comfortable with so little,
a wave of more crashes into me.
I pull away from your ardent urging.
I rest awhile in my madness,
I just want to bask in the sun as I daydream.
Fruitful, inspired, contemplative.
I really thought your desire for me had waned,
and I was trying to be good with it.
But you are like granite as you press yourself against me.
As your hands go to my tempting breast.
New Year’s and in shirt sleeves.
I think, too nice to waste it
just as you say, lets go to Clark.
I take you on my favorite paths,
and then, you lead me astray
off the beaten path,
off my place of comfortable familiarity,
on the one hand I cannot believe I never even stepped off it,
on the other, I am annoyed by the briars pulling at my jeans
poking my finger, slowing my fast advance
and then as you show me the cave
I knew was there, but never explored
I have to pee so bad,
I wait for you to walk away
and then catch you taking a picture of my bare ass
We wander through the thick bramble of buckthorn
and I am annoyed by the muddy water seeping into my boots.
I think you are judging me for being afraid of the cliff face
It is a rational fear,
slippery and brittle rock
and evidence of its tumble.
And you know nothing of the genetic fear of heights
and snakes, (spiders)
I stand on the leaf strewn and earth covered cliff face
and feel no fear at all.
I tell you, laughing at how stupid it is.
And later you seem to understand it.
As we look down into the deep rocky quarry pit.
And the rock that has sheered off
As you are taking pictures,
in my quiet mind
I am writing a story
about a man trapped on a planet
for 127 days
and his return to humanity
about future people getting back to our time
by flashing into this isolated quarry pit.
it is a perfect place,
and I have seen 2 future people today alone.
I find myself pulling back
Suddenly I want less.
I am annoying myself today.
I am like a hummingbird
who wants to be a cocoon.
I am like a dragon fly
who yearns to be a moth.
I am like a cheetah
who longs to be a house cat.
I am content with the slow progress
is it because I think you will judge me,
fairly or unfairly,
but that critical eye
has seared me too many times
my flesh wants none of it
and my heart is like salted frogs legs.
I am not your perfect reflection
I am chicken I tell you,
for the first time
I am acting like a girl.
(a stupid one)
but you invite me to stay
while we both nap
in front of reruns of Bigfoot.