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[For Mary Jane] Falling slowly.
Jun. 26th, 2010 02:48 amI blink once, twice, the backs of my eyes stinging like they've got something to prove, and I draw in a breath that's no shakier than the rest. My forehead's still pressed to Mary Jane's, though we've since rolled onto our sides, naked limbs tangled together so that I'm not sure where I end and she begins. The air hangs humid in the house, moonlight filtering in through the slatted windows, painting the room in shades of blue, her bright red hair now dark against the pillow.
I don't know how much time's passed since we've been like this, silent and unmoving save for the unsteady rise and fall of our chests. I'm not sure it even matters. Time's always been relative, rushing by when you least want it and passing at a snail's pace when you do. We could be here a second, a minute, an hour, a year, and it won't ever be enough. Swallowing thickly, I let out an aborted sigh, little more than a sharp exhale that catches in my throat, giving voice to something I ought to have said before all of this, however long ago it was. In the end, though, it's lost to the moment, gone as soon as it started, dismissed in favor of another wordless breath. Soon, maybe, but not yet.
I don't know how much time's passed since we've been like this, silent and unmoving save for the unsteady rise and fall of our chests. I'm not sure it even matters. Time's always been relative, rushing by when you least want it and passing at a snail's pace when you do. We could be here a second, a minute, an hour, a year, and it won't ever be enough. Swallowing thickly, I let out an aborted sigh, little more than a sharp exhale that catches in my throat, giving voice to something I ought to have said before all of this, however long ago it was. In the end, though, it's lost to the moment, gone as soon as it started, dismissed in favor of another wordless breath. Soon, maybe, but not yet.