Friday, May 1, 2009

I see you.

It’s the peak of an orgasm. It’s the point of zero gravity at the top of a roller coaster. It’s the butterflies you get in your stomach when you think he likes you, but you’re not sure yet. It’s the first shock of freezing water. It’s the time you’re suspended in the air after you’ve leapt off a 40-foot cliff. It’s the extra long minutes once you’ve begun to spin out of control on a snowy pass, when you’ve had time to say ohshitohshitohfuckohshit more than could actually be possible, considering the fact that it only takes .5 seconds to slide to a stop. It’s the moment when you know your relationship is going to end and you have to say it out loud.
What is it? It’s the edge of living life to the fullest. Those moments of raw emotion that are too painful to touch for longer than a couple seconds, yet you strive to find a way to connect with that power and draw strength from it.
I feel most alive on mountain tops, in glacial waterfalls, when every sense is being stretched beyond my comfort level and part of me wants it to go on and another part can’t stand the electrifying jolt of life: of pure, unfiltered existence.
I get glimpses of it, and it’s not enough. It’s like a drug that I have been searching for my entire life, but I only get fleeting tastes of it mixed in with all the everyday flavors. Some days, I feel it stalking me, waiting for the right moment to pounce, and suddenly I get a tightness in my chest and it’s hard to breathe and I am right on the point of letting the animal consume me, but I can’t figure out how to unleash it and it slinks away, to wait until its next chance to be free. It is not my muse, per se, but the rocket ship that carries my muse to me, and I feel the heat as it burns past me with my muse in tow, screaming in thrill and delight, and I never seem to be able to catch the rocket and hold on tight enough to ride it to pure ecstasy.
I am closer to it than ever before. There is a path that is so full of bliss, so charged with energy, that to follow it is to get dragged behind a speedboat and all you can do is try not to lose your swimsuit bottoms in the process. It is the spark inside that can be stoked to wildfire heights, if only there were enough wood.
It is there, and I will find it, whatever it is. I will keep searching until it pounces on me and I scream, consumed.


Love and searching kisses
Morgan

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