The Weird Kid
Thursday, October 23, 2008
When we relax it's like this
I collect things that I can hold in my hand, things that I can't stop touching until my own heat has drained their comfort. Metal sculptures, smooth heavy stones, silly putty and the egg it came in. I lose them, I always lose them quickly.
I haven't lost her, though I will. But for a little while longer, Smudge's body isn't entirely hers. It's her's and mine, still so recently departed from inside of me. Smudge sits naked in my lap and drinks her juice. I cup her foot and draw my hand sleepily up her to her hair, feeling it fall through my fingers like water. Then back down, and up again, for as long as she wants to sit still. I squeeze the fat on her thighs and pat her buttocks in a rhythm. Her skin is cool and doesn't spoil when my hand heats it. Again, it is water. She is like the surface of water.
I stop caressing her and she becomes alert. She grunts, mewls dissatisfactions, begins to lazily run her own little hand belly to neck. More.
I'm glad. So we are symbiotic, finally. Or maybe sometimes we are still just one.
I haven't lost her, though I will. But for a little while longer, Smudge's body isn't entirely hers. It's her's and mine, still so recently departed from inside of me. Smudge sits naked in my lap and drinks her juice. I cup her foot and draw my hand sleepily up her to her hair, feeling it fall through my fingers like water. Then back down, and up again, for as long as she wants to sit still. I squeeze the fat on her thighs and pat her buttocks in a rhythm. Her skin is cool and doesn't spoil when my hand heats it. Again, it is water. She is like the surface of water.
I stop caressing her and she becomes alert. She grunts, mewls dissatisfactions, begins to lazily run her own little hand belly to neck. More.
I'm glad. So we are symbiotic, finally. Or maybe sometimes we are still just one.
posted by Imez at 2:14 PM
5 Comments:
You are amazing. How you feel that little body still connected to you. Enjoy it while you can.
Advocate them to have independence away from you, mourn it while it is happening, and then rejoice when you realize they are independent and yet still a part of you.
It is a beautiful process, much like a butterfly.
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(and this is unrelated, but I couldn't put it in my other comment, but I really have to get rid of the comment word verification thing. you're right. i hate it elsewhere. and i don't like it when people base the majority of their comment on what their word verification thing was. it's like they've come over for dinner and want to talk about the neighbor's new shutters.)
There will be no one else in the whole world you'll a relationship like that with, though. No one. That's one of those things that keeps me amazed.
beautiful
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