One.

sarahsu88@yahoo.com — Wed, 27 Feb 2008 16:42:58 GMT

This is a post. Not about a whole lot but about something that really blew my mind. So, I suppose it's enough. Enough to sit here in the corner of the field and type away. Enough to try and remember. I remember today. I remember last night. And I'm trying to recall the dreams that filled my mind last night. A dream that was real. A dream I woke from not knowing where I really was. Was I lost? I dreamed. And for a moment...I was lost. The dream all started with a voice. And when I think of that voice, it takes me back. And I remember. It might not be such a good thing to remember but now I can't get it out of my mind. I can't let the voice get out of my mind. The voice I heard was not sweet. Never a term of endearment murmured through shy lips. The voice was strong, yet truthful. I felt safe and at the same time scared out of my mind. The low rumble of his vocals filled the air and I can feel a hot breath against my ear and then against my neck. The voice is strong but not really saying much anymore.

And that's when I can feel leather on my back. I'm in a car. A 1967 Chevy Impala that sinks me into the back seat. My back practically glues itself onto it. That's when I notice--- where is my shirt? There is rough kissing on my lips and all I can think is where my shirt must be? I feel a tug of my bra and before I know it, I am revealed to this voice. This stranger who is my home. And everything rushes to my mind when his warm hands touch me. The skin feels like the leather that's on my back and I kiss him. But where is his face? Why can I not see who I am kissing? I blink and he's gone. Not another blink later, he appears in the driver's seat. The key is inserted and I feel the engine rumble my back. The man is standing in front of me again, crouched over and ready. My hands lift and before I can touch his shirt, it's gone. I'm looking. I take in all the indentions of his muscles. But he's real. Not a model, a God, he is real.

And he's unzipping my only article of clothing I have left. The engine is given more gas and I don't know how because he's here. He's in the backseat with me. And when my jeans tighten around my knees, he's tossing me on my knees and I'm looking out the window. There is his voice again. And now it's sweet. Now I feel all the love rushing through my ears, touching my heart. My love. He's real and he's kind. The rough hands find their way down my hips. And he tells me something and I'm being bumped against the leather that was once on my back. My eyes open. Where am I? I search around for a body but all I get is a blanket. And coldness. And my reality is turned into my dream. I close my eyes and try to find my way back to him but I am lost. And I go to call out his name but I realize I don't know it.

It's almost lunchtime. And while it's hard to forget this all, I will continue on my day as if I didn't dream the best dream I've ever had last night. I'll fix myself a sandwich and eat alone. After all, no one is there in my apartment. I'll walk in alone and leave alone and for once in my life, I am suddenly becoming not so okay with that.

sarahsu88@yahoo.com — Mon, 25 Feb 2008 15:14:39 GMT

Keep your eyes glued to this spot. Something half way decent will be written here.

stage

sarahsu88@yahoo.com — Sun, 10 Feb 2008 15:35:06 GMT

I'm thinking about years gone by. I'm thinking about church at midnight. I'm thinking about letting go. I think that might finally be alright. But this is where we shine. Silver bells and open fire and songs we used to sing. One more chance to be inspired is what I'm offering if love is not enough. Then stay with me because the heartache can wait.

Q'orianka

One.

stage