My Alter

As the smell of the highway permeates its way through the bus my mind drifts back to our sheets, and the feel of your silky white skin against my body. I begin to ponder all the beautiful pieces of the puzzle that create us. Your smile growing farther away with every mile, over every bridge, and past all the smiling faces I pass in traffic. It’s a smile that’s never far, because it’s written itself on the pages of my heart. Written like a ballad from Homer, and etched in stone like the Ten Commandments leading me to revelations deeper than any spiritual affirmation.

You see me. The me I hide from everyone, and like a ghost you see through me. You know me. The me no one has come to know, and know my heart as if it was your heart. Because it is. As easy as breathing our love flows given from the Universe as a gift that we would never reject.

Yet here I am, driving away. Too far from you, but not so far I don’t hear you. Your heart pressed against mine, your bare flesh pressed against mine as my mind carries me back to you laying so still in our bed. Surrounded by the silhouettes of cherubs singing notes as memories created by your soft kisses. Your eyes the light of creation, and your smile, those lips, are the gods that I worship. Praying silently at the altar of your perfect form, begging for you to come pleasurably to the knots I tie with my tongue.

As I cross the river that decides the Pacific Northwest I can only dream of the next kiss. I can only dream of the next touch of your hand on my face. I can only wait with the patience of a statue, and the will of your true devotee longing to pray at the altar of your perfect form.