Airport

Covering my face with my hands, there is an incessant in-pouring of light. I feel like I am in a casket. My brain seems to be swelling, in tune with an invisible pendulum. Waves of nausea flood my body.  Small children thunder around in front of me, like hysterical nightmare projections.

I have never enjoyed being in Airports. They are morgues with an added buzz of visitors and commerce. The sterility of the interior design and the nervous excitability of the passengers sets me very quickly on edge. As a salesman for a major international e-commerce company, I am required to fly often.

To avoid excess stress and anxiety I prepare meticulously. Nothing must be left to chance. I am regimented and purposeful during my preparation. If the luggage allowance is 15kg, then I make sure that my suitcase is dead on that weight. I reweigh my suitcases on several sets of scales. Checking there is no error in their calibration.  I do not carry any prohibited travel items. I ring airline customer support several times to double-check. I rummage through my suitcase repeatedly. I allow no error to go unnoticed. I google articles about travel preparation, checklists, essential travel items and I read articles about anxiety related to fear of flying. Neither my emotional state nor practical matters are to take me by surprise. I am like a samurai undertaking pre-battle rituals.

Check-in is open. I funnel through to the check-in desk. There are several people before me; their movements generate a low pitch buzzing in my head. They are hyper-kinetic, speaking at unreasonably loud volumes in an indecipherable language. My arms vibrate down by my sides, my tongue thickens. I feel warmer and more vulnerable. I start to think about the first meal I’ll eat in Rekyjavik. I have panicked thoughts, recognition of myself in these thoughts is minimal. I swing around to check that nobody is standing directly behind me. The several people check in without issue. A man in all black clothing, I presume, a security guard intercepts me and asks me to go to desk 13. Although there is a sign hanging down from the ceiling with directions to check-in desks 10-15, I am unable to locate desk 13. I double back on myself, I ask the check-in assistant from desk 12 where desk 13 is. She says that it has been temporarily moved to the second floor of the terminal. Desk 13 on the second floor doesn't in the slightest resemble a check-in desk. A burly individual with an absence of ****** expressions or an officious manner mans an oak desk. There is no conveyor belt for the luggage, only a shopping trolley. ''Ermmm can I check in here?''. The man whom lacks an officious manner nods curtly without removing his eyes from the newspaper he is reading. "Documentation''. I hand him my documentation. ''Passport''. ''Going to Reykjavik?'' ''Erm yes''. ‘’Follow me’’.
The man, who lacks an officious manner, leads me a door behind the check-in desk that doesn’t in the slightest resemble a check-in desk. A young child with golden blonde hair in white robes pushes the shopping trolley behind me. We enter a room that is high like a cathedral and tiled in exquisite mosaic tiles; alternating gold and white into infinity. The ceiling is so high it seems to disappear off into a void. Sat down at a bog-standard mass manufactured desk in front of me, is a man who must be at least 13 feet tall, he has enormous ears like an elephant and is speaking in rounds of what sounds like the same phrase. I do not recognise the language. I am ceased from behind by the blonde child and the man who lacks an officious manner. The man with enormous ears like an elephant screams ‘’I hate Iceland’’, the blonde child laughs uncontrollably grabbing his stomach like he is holding his insides in. The ceiling begins to close in and a space opens in the floor. The man who lacks an officious manner says in a sinister tone says ‘’Do you think you would be forgiven”. I say ‘’I have got a ticket, I’m going to Iceland on business’’ I feel a prodding in my lower back and then darkness.

Cover me like snow.
Sweep me into your pocket.
Loose me in your sunrise.
End these faulted comforts.

Pick me above head for a view.
Take me through the tunnel.
Break down the iceberg.
It's all fresh water.

Can I walk through the door?
Maybe have a seat?
Ill stay for as long as you ask.
Faint presence in a silent room.

Tread the streets lightly.
Make me a reality of adulation.
My ear loves the patterns of your breath.
Breathe into me.

Lets walk these paths through the forest.
The unknown ones.
Just like fresh steps in the sand.
We know they are washed away.

Get lost in focused tension.
This rock of solitude doesn't move.
Fallen tsunamis on soil.
Immovable occupied space.

These days will end out of storms.
in warmth and peacefulness.
Laid down soft pillow cases.
Accept this excitability.

Use your snow to make angels.
I'm not some lint in your pocket.
Keeping me warm summer.
Faults filled. Solved.

We met a coffee shop.

Not a Starbucks or a Caribou or anything fancy like that, it was just a plain local coffee shop that served mediocre java and salted lunch meat on stale bread.

The menu was impressive enough to keep the place open, and after all, it's where I met the man who changed my life.

I pretended to be engulfed in a rather boring Sparks novel that I grabbed off the counter to pass the time when he sat down across from me.

His hair was black. His suit was black. His shoes were black. His skin was a smooth drinkable ivory that only accentuated his stunning green eyes. He was typing away furiously on his laptop, but amidst his deep trance, something broke his concentration.

****.

He caught me looking. Frazzled, I motion for the waitress that doesn't see me to come over and refill my already half full cup. Fill it with some of that mediocre coffee of course.

****.

She doesn't come, but he does. He says my deep brown eyes, caramel skin, and tight curls made him want to write poetry. Anyone worthy of that type of inspiration must be approached, is what he said.

I tell him my name. He goes by William. I never got his last name and I guess it didn't matter. By the time we downed our burnt brazilian roast, we were headed out the door in search for a more intimate setting as if where we were hadn't been quiet enough.

I don't now what made me bring him to my apartment, the eighth floor, sitting on the patio soaking in the sounds of the city below us while sweet white wine ravished our veins.

I knew what was coming.

He commented on my blouse, said how it made love to my breast in a way no man ever could. He said my hips were like curvaceous lilly valleys winding around the hills of Maine. He said my hair was sunkissed with natural bronzer that shined eloquently at the turn of each curl. And as his hand brushed my cheek, he spoke of my dimples and how they were perfectly placed upon my smile blessing anyone whom could successfully create one.

As I came out of my bra, he kissed my neck and kissed my chest and kissed and kissed and kissed until he found what he was looking for. He told me my skin was soft as satin and sweet as sugar right off the cane. When my jeans fell to the floor, he traced his lips along my ***** line, saying he had never desired so badly to taste wild honey.

When I was naked and vulnerable at the mercy of his will, he examined me like a feast as if he didn't know where to begin. He entered me so softly, I could hardly tell he was there. He told me I was beautiful. He told me I was perfect. He told me it was tight and wet and he didn't want to be anywhere else in this **** of a world but right here inside me.

I see stars. I see the sun. I see the highest mountain tops after a soothing rain. I see moonlight on a hot summer night and the beauty in the auburn colors on an October afternoon.

William not only rocked my world; he painted it. His hands carried such an elegance about them that my body ached for his touch even more so. With every moan that escaped my lips, he spoke poetry into my ear. Telling me to "look up and imagine Paris" and "close your eyes and build a dream". All of his mumbo jumbo made sense in a weird kind of way.

I always thought people only climaxed at the same time in movies because that's just something you can't schedule. It slowly sneaks up on you like a tiger in the wild, and just when you think you've lost him; BAM. That's when your ten seconds of ohmyfuckinggoshdontstoprightthere kicks in and you realize it was the best ten seconds of your day and of your life up to that very point.

As swiftly and beautifully as he came, he was gone. But before he left me feeling empty and full at the same time, my previous infatuation and excitability had made me succumb to his trance, and I hardly even remembered what (if anything) of which we spoke.

I say to him, "William, please tell me. Who are you? What is your last name?"
His answer baffles me, and doesn't make any **** sense; "You will find me as the candle in the wind, the condensation on a glass, and the fruitful taste of white zin on your tongue in the heat of the day."

And with that he left.
He left me standing there sticky and lonely and satisfied and mad all at once. I figured I may as well clean up my mess, clean up myself, and continue to rule the day.

I begin a motion to take the sheets off the bed and roll them up in a burrito of sin when I had stopped and realized I didn't want any latex melting in the dryer.  
I search for it. Like, really search for it.

Ok, it's not under the bed.

Where is it?

Not in the burrito that I just tore apart.
Not in the garbage.
Not in his hands when he left.
My eyes never left him.
Or did they?

****.

Valleys and flowers and sunshine and stupid *** Paris. STUPID. ***. PARIS.
All that madness and stupid weird *** just ****** me off. It caught me off guard. That wasn't me back there, careless Carrie. No. No.
That wasn't me.

**** it.
I need to shower.


[....to be continued...]

Want, want to stay in your paradise always
yearn for your presence when you're out of touch
flames trickled at first and then ate us in a blaze
barely remember how it was to feel your embrace.

Lost into oblivion, a dispersion of family members
all my doing, my fault, my fault, my death.
Wounded and weeping, helpless by my own choosing
flames easily stretched us apart an put us fully in the dark.

Desire to bring them back, yet constantly brinking on goodbye,
can't do it again to me or to them.
So far so good, my loneliness reasons.
What was ventured was also lost, so don't try again.

Heart yearning for the sweetness of others,
can't reach them under private enclosures.
Liquify my excitability, lose my desire for company.
Stillness is all I have, it wraps around my destiny.

alternate title – A bona er fide dog day afternoon delight.

A mere half dozen vowels
constitute the English language
Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay
Consonants comprise the majority
(sans remaining twenty) Ta Deum,
whereby both in tandem allow, enable
and provide avast combination donning brooks at bay
ample lettered permutations

offer opportunities, where methinks
mother tongue avails allows, enables
and provides thyself
tubby spell as sigh arrange passions linkedin to create, evoke
and generate plenti of romantic expressions to convey
an amorous, bedazzling conception

describing ******, graphic, and iconic ****** propensities
this cobbler, dabbler, and fiddler
(no, not on the roof) doth display
his penchant, lament and bent infatuation
with these twenty-six symbols
that **** hen ewe to evolve,
and breed vernacular words to reflect from an eBay
definitions apropos to the present, which
Uber state farm quixotic oeuvre,

and matchless kindling ******* serves as foreplay
for this heterosexual ma reed male caressing,
finessing, and integrating
expressions of speech oft times spurs
(what might seem as noun sense),
I ponder the peccadilloes of being gay
yet quickly reroute ****** predilections
albeit rolling in the hay,

whence this dis straw t fellow
conjures affinity, comity and excitability
latent within the consanguinity
of bossy verbs assaying boisterously
an interjection tubby top dog capstone amidst kennel
of barking canines couching with another similar subject
each with their body electric

nestled upon a davenport faux pas inlay
in conjunction with another
four legged friend, the direct object
particularly eyed iz a ***** in heat, who **** okay
to buffer end an un pro noun
sub bull underdog species, who feels passé
with ****** faw paw play

though averse to insult shaggy scoobie doo,
whose bark a role overture willingly
doth goad her to doggy paddle
while she woofs down remnants of  
picnic tourists left littered
while Lady and the ***** head toward the quay
Pier ring for private sloop to **** per ****,
then ******* hoo ray
afore slyly cagily approaching bag of tricks
see ****** exploits today.

You’re my best friend
Always a time of transition
I was in the last year
Of my second decade

I said goodbye
To young adult fiction
Read some classic thrillers
And plays to readjust
My ripening brain

Met someone I’d probably
Never see again
Didn’t get his last name
Only a distant memory

I was surprised when someone
In Las Vegas
Had never been to New York

And how I wanted to go
To Paris
Like the scale of excitability
Was a sliding one

Thank you for giving me time
To ready myself
Before heading abroad
You always look out for me

sinister concatenation pairs us
   with surreal morgue aisle
broken lives rent asunder
   from fanatics hell bent with bile
of poison spewing forth *******
   up the moral compass dial

upending amity, comity,
excitability with ferocity,
hostility, indelibly, indubitably,
inexorably hissing illogic jabber
wocky justifiably linking extremist
deadly credos bred among western nations

indicting pursuit of life, liberty
and happiness wreaking deliberate havoc
   awash with crimson tide of blood –
   dead set to jam the life lock

viz Leviathan of personal freedoms
   bespoken via vernacular,
where secular westerners
   framed to mock,

where extremist storied devout
   die hard believers dislike rock
and roll of altruism, capitalism,
   liberalism, thus apply shell shock
tactics sans terroristic tactics
   with bombs silently tick tock

inevitably heightening security
   forcing ordinary citizens
   to be on high alert
watchful even at slightest com
   ment, perhaps even accidental curt

commentary invoking immediate
   military forces swoop down and exert
overpowering force donned
   with ammunition belt bristling girt
affecting innocence abroad and
   native population to freeze
   and become inert

casting dark silhouettes against
   autumnal reign of light
where Mithraism plays out
   with immensely brutal might
blotting out the radiance

   of heavenly bliss affording active night
life to become shuttered
   as cruel carnival masquerade
   pits pagan plight

against the jagged
   scrimmage line quite
arbitrarily drawn by maniacal foes
   for freedom trammel the right
to own democratic stance –

   for Jihadist Johnny come lately
   find a slight
lampooned their sacred
   Islamic catechism inducing tight
grip on Allah to fuel vengeance
   for intimated transgressions
   that doth in vite

which violent polemics purpose
   fully shear the very fiber of peace
pronounced with especial
   arduousness come holiday time
   foisting a crease

along the fabric of westernization –
   whereby founding fathers did grease
the figurative wheels of con
   com it ant moist meaty lifestyle
to experience strangulation
   from an invisible death knell lease.

This passion that lingers
The excitability of your fingers
Intricate pages of memoirs
Seep intuitively out of your pores

Drop by creative drop
The words they never stop
Clinging to the waiting page
Like a thespian to the stage

This beating in your chest
Emotions aching to be expressed
As you let go of the rhymes
Ecstasy seeps into your pleasured mind

Eagerness readily overtakes me prior
to succumbing to nightly slumber.

Tis boot a blink when eyelids become relaxed
adrift abed invariably occurs counting backwards  
from one hundred – a simple sleep aid technique  
to usher deep and profound submersion
into subconscious state.  

Once transition from wakefulness to the virtual
realm of unconsciousness envelops thy corporeal
being (i.e. said sensate state
characterizes word wrangler),
thine immersion into deep sleep oft times elicits
a most alluring, charming, and entrancing female.

Lo and behold to ethereal winsome
mettlesome iron maiden,
who unequivocally, quickly, and markedly
infiltrates mine subconscious
dramatically contrasted against
unsinful, yet vengeful, wrathful wife,
especially fortified, justified, and legitimated
when husband in delicto flagrante
no matter figment of my imagination occupied
smattering rem cycles, a mere fraction of mine
existence, which true valued earthly lifespan
constitutes Inxs journeys lxiii round
el sol translated into utter disbelief.

Thus, some measure of consolation, fascination,
and insulation experienced by this white pawn,
(while he rides high in the saddle as some vaunted
feigned knight upon kingly steed) zealously
yearning for uber flight of fancy from nonexistent
angelic aura to lyft my spirits sans regular visitations.

Twas with utmost avidity, excitability, and incongruity,
that found this roam in poet to alight delightedly
gloriously relinquishing hold upon reality, whence
nightly occurrences plied quavering radiantly shining
teasingly undulating voiceless willow the wisp.

Thee lovely lass perched upon slipstream between
wakefulness and sleep.

She redolently shone as thee inimitable Lady in red,
and returned to mine nocturnal submission.

While awaiting sought after amorphous, fabulous,
incredulous nebulous essence (transient nymph
inhabiting thine unconscious state altered state,
what seemed thine entire existence), I reiterate
crafted ode and softly sing the following verse.

Chorus:

she danced with a feverish spring
and stepped as if in the air
no worries existed
for whose wellbeing she did care
with eyes of sparkling emeralds
with a shimmering flair
amber waves brought serenity
from her flowing glistening hair
attracting like a magnet
every person she that came near
spreading infectious contagion
of happiness everywhere.

tossed out the fashion boutique
on a cushion four square led
this lady in red
with her snug outfit
against her slim body did wed
pizzazz and personality that bred
this well healed nanny with high street cred
made sure charges
looked spiffy and well fed.

Chorus:
she danced with a feverish spring
and stepped as if in the air
no worries existed
for whose wellbeing she did care
with eyes of sparkling emeralds
with a shimmering flair
amber waves brought serenity
from her flowing glistening hair
attracting like a magnet
every person she that came near
spreading infectious contagion
of happiness everywhere.

atop shoulders bounced
a well coiffed and adorable head
drawing followers wherever she led
and listened to her ****, silky,
and sultry voice no matter she pled
to steer clear of amorous affair
where verboten fruit one must not tread
toward, cuz illicit shenanigans
hurtful to the one you did wed.

chorus:
she danced with a feverish spring
and stepped as if in the air
no worries existed
for whose wellbeing she did care
with eyes of sparkling emeralds
with a shimmering flair
amber waves brought serenity
from her flowing glistening hair
attracting like a magnet
every person she that came near
spreading infectious contagion
of happiness everywhere.