[Passionaria]

Even at three am the Texas heat is unbearable. The scorched red earth of the Hill Country has baked dry, cracking like the sun drenched face of a thousand year old woman. Plants, like fragile Southern Bells grow faint from heat exhaustion, while trees stand comatose, not daring to move a single leaf. It feels as if the land is holding its breath, afraid to make one wrong move.

One wrong move I think, tears rolling down my face, can change everything. I had never behaved like that before, so hurt and angry that I couldn’t even remember what I had said. I’m sure it wasn’t pretty I thought to myself, sniffling, as I gently sucked the last morsel of chocolate clinging to my manicured fingertips. The sweetness of the chocolate was a welcome contrast to the pain raging in my heart. But not quite as helpful as the Merlot I sipped, as I sat on the front porch, curled up on the sea grass sofa, watching the night.

A breeze rustles through dry leaves, laced with the familiar scent of dust. While grayish blue clouds morph the starry sky, into an ominous warning, whose energy feels like a snake recoiling ready to strike. Oh stop teasing me, I thought, directing my pain at the sky, instead of you. It hasn’t rained in months. Lightning pierces the darkness, electricity burning through my heart. The only sound I hear is the wind, blowing like the tormented thoughts in my mind. The plants quiver reaching out to be quenched, as does my heart. The outside and the inside feel the same tonight, the synchronicity bringing me peace.

This storm and I are one, as I wander out under the night sky. Rain begins to fall cool on my skin, giving life to earth, and my soul. Inhibition dissolves into this merging, and I remove my clothes stretching my torso across the hood of my neighbor’s car. My feet spread apart, my hips following the line of warm metal. Face down, my long hair flowing across red paint. Rain is beating down on my skin; stinging, cooling, cleansing. Cool water quenching the dryness of my lips, rolling across swollen eyelids, massaging tense shoulders, torrents running from my fingertips. Tears of this raging storm gush down the valley of my spine like a flash flood, then splashes over the roundness of my hips, and lush bare bottom, before finding the inside of my thighs, and rushing to join the waiting earth. The skies passionate release washing away the storm in me.

I laid there cleansed and entranced, until the fleeting storm transformed into a rising mist permeating the night air. Finally rising, spent, amazed at the markings my body lotion has created. A woman’s face, breasts, waist, hips and thighs smeared onto the red paint of my neighbor’s car. Laughing softly, poor thing, I wonder how he is going to explain that.

Pashi



Yes, I know this is a story, but it just feels better to me to keep my musings in one tightly spot. A place where all the creatures of my overactive mind are already familiar with each other.~ Passionaria