Torch

Strange orange hot torched day, the heat sheathed in a layer of sadness, immediacy as well. A sort of flicker to the air I haven't felt in a while, the sparkle of being alone, flying through space, singular, all that.

I choke on grief from time to time, but mostly it's just a sort of appreciation for the machinations of fate, the kind of awareness it brings you to. I've been searching for the cadence in the chaos, a light to comfort my turbulent mind...

I have too much going on in my head. I have to channel this energy somehow. I'm sure if I could snuggle with him, I'd feel much better. I miss him and some nights are only tolerable if I can listen to his breath and feel his warmth. He is amazing, electrifying. I lay around on my bed playing music, thinking about kissing him into a white heat, get all emotional, giddy, sentimental.

I let a random slideshow of his memory course through my head. That warm bed and crimson dawn. His smile and fiery eyes. It was deep summer, crickets droned endlessly, the air vibrated. We didn't want to sleep. I'd slip off for ten minutes and have him wake me.

I'm calm and happy through all of this, each moment burns out and ends forever and I'm fine with that, as long as we share each little death together.

I miss him whenever he's not with me.
I miss him all the time.