the first time i rolled a joint.

i was thinking of a time when i knew i knew something. everything. of life and love. i knew. i was so young then, so sure of myself and the way my lines created a curve that begged to be touched.  i was thinking of that time, because today i feel so far away. i feel far from knowing. knowing. confused about how two people fit together in a sequence of dirty, rusty perfection. you never knew how this thing was going to go. i acted like i did, but i didn’t. well, i did, but i didn’t. can you tell me that story again? the one that made me believe in love again?

i was thinking about you today, while the sun was high. we were smiling new smiles at each other and not knowing what we would do next. i told you to be careful with me. i’m hard but so soft. touch me and you will most definitely remark at my softness. which you only get to see in mid morning light.

“i know you,” i said in the same light. “i know who you really are inside.”

let’s just pretend that we own the world. travel with me. and decide where we’ll venture next. experience something new and scary, but here i’ll be next to you experiencing it, too. we have no way of knowing the path to that place where neither of us has ever been. no name, no description. just a hunch that we’re determined to follow.

i knew who you were before anyone could guess that we’d end up here. let’s just forget about all of that stuff. the way we felt when we realized that time is the rule. i told you, “let’s stop time.” and you didn’t know what i meant until i had kissed every inch of your psyche. i took it slow and made you crazy.

“faster,” you thought. “that place that you know, please get me there.”

but i wouldn’t. i wanted you to feel the way i felt, out in the open, every day: so god damned vulnerable to the entire fucking universe. i showed you the depths of unrestraint and you tried to control the moment. all i need is to be out of control; you just want to feel something that is real. but we can’t allow ourselves that one perfect measure of freedom. we can’t. we’re not more afraid of anything else.

you smell like the moment i was born.  i  thought  i recognized that scent. the way it led me to my place of rest. i thought it was a hoax, but i didn’t care, because it felt so damn good; bare skin on skin. it’s a crime to feel any way else. life is so funny. i hadn’t touched you before i knew what you smelled like.

the sun is still shining; i want to show you me. just a moment of pure warmth. no one has to know more than you do. we could leave this place, you know. we could create a new language. converse with me.

3 Comments

Filed under 5 senses, dreams, love, mind fuck, muse, poetry, reminisce

3 responses to “the first time i rolled a joint.

  1. Anonymous

    i like that!!!!!!!!!!

  2. you must like pain like i like pain.

  3. KJM

    A piece for the ages. You are.

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