make love

I have’t felt his touch in a while, even though we sleep close together every night. When he mistakenly brushes against my thighs or breasts, he pulls his hand away, as if what just happened crossed a line. I am starting to forget what it feels like, to be loved that way or to be wanted. I too shiver at his misplaced hand on my body. In lonely moments I long for it, yet when it reaches my cold skin I don’t let it in. How can two bodies forget about each other and yet live side by side and lie in the same bed? How can so much closeness reveal too much distance? Our love only communicates through words that chase each other in endless circles around our hearts, so that our bodies have become numb to the taste of slow kisses and gentle caresses.

Humans so easily forget what makes them happy and alive. Until they become a reflection of what they once were so that others are deceived. Anyway, why would they want to see what really lies behind a smile and indulging eyes? True emotions get stuck between flesh and bones where no one can see them and your body simply becomes a ravelled complexity uneasy and unwilling to unfold.

You cannot think of any logical way to get out of all the knots you both so diligently crafted, now your hands are sore because it is too hard to push though that intricacy. We are blind to the solution, we are scared of the consequences. Both our minds are too complicated to allow life to flow like an unbroken river. We must always question, doubt and argue. Has the mind become the prison it cannot free itself from? How can one person open the door to a cage of one’s own making? We hid the key and we cannot find it any longer. Or maybe we could… it is right there, behind misinterpreted or misplaced words, pride, fatigue, disillusion, or even forgetfulness.

I wonder if his trembling hand can hold mine strong enough.