2007-02-18
tidepools and parted hair
my body has this trick of recalling instantly certain tastes or smells or sensations. lately it has been the taste of seawater and (perhaps this is somewhat connected), the taste of semen. both all too distant right now.
then my eyes start to squint, recalling the trickle and sting of the sea and my hot skin. skin covered in a powder of dusty salt, dried eddies where tepid water collected and pooled. collar bones and belly buttons traced in soft grit. coated in sun bleach and crystals.
then i picture a huge dark slab of rock, slick with the sea and radiating heat. i stretch my fingers and feel the porous cracks. lick the salt from my lips and open my lungs to the thick air. and feel the rays beating down on shimmering skin.
i suppose that is as clear a cry for help (help in this case meaning some booty and tasty waves) as any. come to think of it, i'm sort of surprised i haven't yet made the sexy connection with saltwater. sweat, ocean, come, tears. the stuff of life, i guess.
my preoccupation today most likely stems from lingering emotions following the little closet fort "encounter" and walk home together with morris last night. i think i am awed by him in a new way.
also i keep replaying the crucial moment on the dancefloor where he broke up a hipster fistfight by diplomatically robot dancing between the two, then casually robot dancing back to us.
tinteardrop at 11:17 p.m.