Hey, Life, thanks.

Your eyes
Complete the sentence
Finishing the painting
Staring at me now

ArtistRocco DeLuca & The Burden
TitleThe Painting

iphone train tales

The sun was mere hours from rising and there we sat. I was lost in the stars and hadn’t noticed I’d stopped talking and she was staring silently at me, not waiting for the next words, just examining. A minute went by. Then two. She rolled her hand over the pebbles covering the roof pushing waves of them over the edge plumeting some thirty stories below. It was her fingers that brought my attention back to reality, their slender lines elegant and graceful capped by chipped purple painted nails. She laghued, noticing my gaze and said she hated make up of all kind but was forced to get “dolled up” for this morning’s wedding. She tucked her hands into the pockets of my jacket that I’d given her as the chilly night wore along. I was still hypnotized by the moment and the entirity of the day when I remembered the cigerette case. It came out quickly with a flash in the moonlite. She rolled it over in here hand not really looking at it, her attention seemingly elsewhere. I froze, unsure of how to act. I couldn’t snatch it way without bringing attention to it but she would inevitably figure it once she looked down.  I shifted, kind of leaning back, deciding I’d let her realize what it was and jsut deal with it when she did. With swift adroit comfort she whipped the case openned, pulled out a perfectly manicured joint, fatter than a normal cigarette but otherwise symmetricla with factorlike uniformity. She rolled it in her finger still not really paying the object any mind, a flash of fire flew forward and ignited the end sending the wonderul sweet aroma wafting around us. Without so much as a word and barely a perceptible movement she flicked the lit joint in my direction. I freak, trying to catch the little flamming torch tossed at my lap i lose a bit of balance and almost fell into my next life. Heart pounding trying to regain my breath and composure I see the joint next to me in the gravel. I pick it just as I notcing she’s chuckling wildly with another, lit, dangling from her cherry plump bottom lip. Heretofore I had attempted to be the picture of suave doing my best to hide the nervousness we both noticed. My guise now demolished I was now able to relax a bit and with my lungs filling and eyes watering I was falling into a familiar comfort zone. The quiet was pierced by her coughing out the words, “I hope you don’t mind.”  I asked, mind what, the coughing or her almost killing me. She just shook her head and raised the joint. “Nah”, I said. I myslef was just trying to figure out a way to sneak a way to fire one up. I was about to say that we could’ve shared and didn’t have to blaze two but thought better of it. Another few minutes passed with nothing being said and she got up.  Following her cue I rose and trailed as we walked back the way we came. It was when we were peering across at each other in the elevator before she spoke again. “So, what else?”, She asked. I tiltled my head like a puzzled dog.  I didn’t know what to say, we had spent the previous twelve hours together and I’ve spent the entire time tap dancing on a bed of nails. I couldn’t figure out what she wanted and up until now she never really asked she jsut insisted and took the lead. Only now beginning to regain a sense of normalcy I didn’t know what to do. Thankfully my stomach growlled and answered for me. She smiled saying, “looks like we have a winner.”  Again with no hesistation she lead the way. She walked with a brisk determination, head held high, balanced over strong, sloped shoulders. My jacket hid her  curves and almost swollowed her whole in it’s dense fabric. She was a few steps ahead of me our gait falling in rhythm.  She moved with a type of fluid assertiveness  I imagined she danced, since she was a child, ventured in with child like enthusiasm and continued out of contempt for quiting or failure.  The streets were relatively deserted giving an eerily still feeling to the normally throbbing city.  We had stopped on the corner in front of an all-night bodega. She told me to wait outside then slipped through the door.  It had dawned on me that I didn’t have any condoms and now would be about as perfect a time as any to try and pick up a box, I make my move to walk in and she’s already coming out with a paper bag in her hands. Instinctively, I reach to take it from her and we turn the corner down a resisdential block.  I wasn’t exactly sure where we were but standing in front of this brownstone I couldn’t care less.  She moved through the dark apartment like she’d been there a million times but it had been awhile. Putting the entire brown bag in the fridge she illuminated our surroundings for a brief moment. It was a austerely furnished  but it’s starkness was in direct contrast with the warm inviting feeling I got as soon as I entered. No sooner had I found a lounge chair and plopped myself down she floated over and positioned herself in my lap.  All day and this was the first sign of any affection after what happened. She placed her head on my shoulders, produced another joint, lit it and rested it in the corner of my mouth. She then put the flame to a stick of incense and repositioned herself lengthwise across my lap and the arms of the chair. I couldn’t bring myself to look down at her, I just stared off into the darkness for a long moment. Like most of the night we sat there quietly as the sun slowly began to infiltrate our sanctum. As the sky began to glow she got up without a word and walked to the bedroom. I sat for a moment, not knowing what to do next, still pulling air through the ever-shrinking joint. I heard some music come on and realized she never closed the door. I make my way over. The bedroom had a huge window facing the rising sun. I could see she had climbed into what looked like a giant cloud in the center of an empty sky and was facing the window. There was no other furniture. There was however a small Bose player on a tiny shelf floating on the wall. I could see on the floor was my jacket and her dress. I kicked off my shoes, pulled my shirt over my head without unbottoning it and slid into bed next her.  She pulls my arm around her and moves until her back rests warmly against my chest. She must have read my mind because as soon as I began to think about letting my hands wander she whispers, “sleep, think sleep.” I’m pissed but quickly doze off.

Everything I’ve learned about myself, my capacity to love, my glaring contradictions, my ugly insecurities, my magical ability to heal, I’ve learned by being in relationship with others. Work is so important, and sometimes life saving, but we are here to be in relationship with one another. — dream hampton (via dreamhampton1)