it is never as bad as it could be

it felt right to tell you, at that very moment, the thing that was on my mind.  even though in my heart i knew it was not wise.  even though i had not carefully considered the consequences.
there was a beacon, dim over the dark hills, but we continue along the shore, the wind whipping at our back.
maybe it will be warm again, but for now it's only me in this eddy, swirling, contained chaos fucking with my train of thought.

what it is

the first thing that comes to my mind is the softness of his arms.  the way they formed around me, perfect, tailor-made.  solid.  when i rested my lead-heavy head onto his chest, becoming enveloped by the warmth, vibration, heartbeat.  the hair and air and skin and muscles and tendons and bones melting away into nothing.  becoming distilled into something primal, living in the seconds between the seconds within the seconds.  civilizations born and rising and dying on the outside and it would not be bad or okay but just be.  a transcendent mediation that would only be broken with a human sigh, or a gentle borborigmo, or perhaps the start of soft, soft snoring.