by L. Dinkens Stewart

Created on: October 02, 2009

September Morning

When we arrived into the darkness, it was autumn.

The leaves were changing and falling as we were changing and falling in love.

The only way I truly could thrive was in love.

I had entered that space many times before with many men.

This time was different.

Everyone says that, but it was true for me.

He was different.

As much as I pushed, he pushed back and put me in my place.

No one had, to that point, ever been able to accomplish that feat.

All at once I loathed him, despised him, envied him, trusted him,

Fell into him and craved more.

His strength knew nothing of force.

The power he possessed was palpable and at the same time intangible.

I knew that he had given himself to me as reluctantly and completely as I to him.

He kindly unraveled my petals of insecurity, until I stood raw before him.

In my natural flawed form, he loved me still.

He plunged into my depths, discovering a me I did not know,

Though I grew to love her too.

In our closet, we worshiped without abandon.

We thrashed at the boundaries of the space, desperate for the chance of breath.

We needed air, but we could not help but remain there.

Our insanity threatened to undue every accomplishment,

Ruin all sense of connection to anything other than the two of us.

We could not care less.

We wilted willingly.

It was an autumn morning when we entered our dark closet and,

Though much time has passed,

We have yet to reemerge.

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