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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2116260-Stream-of-Consciousness-I
by An'yai
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Emotional · #2116260
A story, pulled from a stream of consciousness. My heart remembers and longs for you.
I close my eyes and wrap my arms around myself as I sway to the music. In my mind’s eye I’m not alone, it’s not my arms that hold me but yours. I can feel the warmth of your body mingling with the life in mine and I bite back a sigh, just in case you should take it as a complaint and not the compliment it is. The walls fall away and we’re dancing in the grass, the only lights being those of the stars in the sky, those glorious lights, spinning and dancing in a salute to the two of us. The distance between us is halved and halved again as you pull me closer, pressing your body against mine, the line of you searing my skin through my dress. I feel your breath, hot on my cheek, an exhalation of life. Your breath is sweet and it caresses my cheek even as I feel your lips brush delicately over my earlobe. “Relax.” You tell me, hands moving on my hips, moving to encircle my waist, meeting at the small of my back. Every nerve in my body is alive, is burning, and you tell me to relax? I open my mouth to speak but I am voiceless. Your eyes meet mine. Dark. Deep dark, loving dark, endless dark, a dark that I could fall into forever, falling and falling and falling. Fingertips meet lips, the barest of touches, a hint of skin on skin contact, nothing more. And then everything shatters.

Daytime. A field. Grass sways, higher than my hips, dancing in the breeze that plays with the wisps of hair that escape my messy bun. Alone again. All alone. A 360 view. There’s so much here, so much and more, and yet, it feels like less. Because you’re not here with me. My bare feet rest against Gaia’s curves, and my toes dig into the rich soil, the breeze bringing the scents of the dirt, of growing things and of life, letting it wrap around me in a cocoon of experience. Laughter. A throaty, velvety chuckle and I turn. The engraved stick falls out of my hair, and it floats in the air as my body moves me. Locks touch my cheek and I revel in the sensation, my eyes fluttering shut before opening, before seeking. I see you in the distance, a shadow, the barest hint of your true self, and I hunger. The hungry tide washes over me, a great wave that moves from my feet, up my body, and outwards, pushing through me, pushing me forward. One step. Then a second. A third, fourth, fifth. Now I’m running. Racing towards you, my hair flowing behind me like a banner in the wind. My feet make no sound on the earth, the Mother cradling each step I take, and still I run. Your back is to me, and I allow my hungry eyes to feast on your form, and I find myself drawn to the curve of your hip, the small of your back. Desperation grips me in its strong hand and squeezes. My breath escapes my body in an exhalation of pain, of loss, as I realize that the sun’s light goes right through your beautiful form. Every step, now slow and plodding, doesn’t bring me any closer and I stop with you just as far as you were before. Your form wavers, like heat rolls off of the pavement and I realize it’s true. You’re just a mirage.

The sun is sinking down over the horizon, a giant orb of fire, painting the sky above and the water below a deep crimson. At the edge of the sunset, the clouds are bruised purple. My feet sink into the sand and a smile breaks over my face as the waves lap at my ankles. The birds sing their “Goodbye” song and each trill breaks my heart all over again. My gaze drops from the sky and takes in the entirety of the ocean in front of me. Horizon to Horizon, I am the only creature of the land seen. I spin on my heel, gawking, my voice stilled from the pleasure, from the pressure of the moment. Sand. All around my feet there lies sand. And then the ocean. It bleeds the color from the sky, spreading it along the white capped waves. The wind whips at my dress and teases the hair from my face. I throw out my arms, as though to embrace the world, and I cry out, a voiceless, wordless cry. The water crashes over my ankles. My knees. My thighs. Each wave is another push, another hand placing force on my already battered form. But it’s also cool, a soothing coolness that takes the heat from my bones and replaces it with peace. I shed the dress, stepping out of it and letting the white fabric become one with the waves before closing my eyes. My stomach feels the icy touch of the waves, and then my breasts. I feel the waves as they press against me and then try to pull me back with them, a dance. Push. Pull. Push. Pull. I let myself go with the rhythm, entwining my fingers with that of the waves, letting it pull me off of my knoll, my safety. I become one with the ocean.

The music ends. My arms fall to my eyes, my eyes open. I am here, again, alone. With starlight on my skin, the wind in my hair, and the ocean in my heart. And the taste of you on my lips.
© Copyright 2017 An'yai (anyai at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2116260-Stream-of-Consciousness-I