Weather
This weather.
This beautiful weather on the second and third of September, as I’d describe: crisp pre-autumn in the Mid-Atlantic region, despite a nightmare September 1 of hurricanes tornadoes and flooding. It’s the weather of memory, and makes me consider the split second after the departure of a warm touch. Or the touch itself, when it is held a split second longer than you expected, or lands on a little more surface of parts of the body you want but do not mean to disturb.
Is there anything more exhilarating than the moment a desired touch departs and you know to look for it again, but only as chance as strange weather. Sure there’s some predictability but I don’t believe in rain dances.
The touch will come back. Finger tips on my palm, an unexpected linger. Even a tacit glance. This is the weather of the split second when skin separates and understands the remnant victory is in the very remembering. Because it is not a scar, it will not be permanent, and because it is not a mistake, it will not be mistaken.
A perfectly inviting pre-autumn day like a cool inhale after bodies stop moving against each other and merely take in the pleasure of having heard the same frequency in the air.
Create your profile
Only paid subscribers can comment on this post
Check your email
For your security, we need to re-authenticate you.
Click the link we sent to , or click here to sign in.