untitled continued, #7: Desire
Nancy Drew never grew up. She and Peter Pan must be in the same assemblage as the Neverland boys and girls. So neither will I age; to hell with the years that mock my imagination. Love, then, will continue to be as it is. It will be as mysterious as I had thought it to be.
There are things in this crazy world that we will never truly understand. We are walking contradictions. And we are human, with such forgetfulness that shame even Ten Second Tom. I turned to the Gift that turned up beside me. It contentedly rested by my feet, waiting for me to rouse an inch of attention to pick it up.
I took it with me and rested under a shade nearby. Moving numbly, I ran my fingers across my face and wiped away the rain from my eyes. My consciousness slipped into one of its reveries again.
“Come with me Desire, and I will show you,” he beckoned. I looked up into his brown eyes and felt so — drawn. I sighed deeply. “You know, we will never get anywhere if you don’t move,” he teased.
I slowly lifted my hands to him. He delicately took my hands into his and pulled me up from where I sat. It was a breezy summer afternoon and the sun wasn’t so hot. But my skin burned. Strange sensations started to overwhelm me; sensations that were foreign, yet so human.
He smiled and exhaled slightly. His breath smelled of mint. I closed my eyes and savored the nearness of our selves, and wished it were so for the rest of my existence.
“Your slightest look easily will unclose me
Though I have closed myself as fingers,
You open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously)her first rose.”





















