Airport Wilds, Fleshly Depots ...
You know I find beauty in the magnitude that is humanity, you know my curiosity and appetites are whetted and have been all my life ... but this....this You?
You sustain me and you thrill me. You hand feed me filthy treats beribboned in love.
Humanity has got a three ring circus to offer me on a plate,
until the day I die,
but you see,
I am become increasingly aware over the last few years, that there can only ever be but one you.
You are what my heart cries out for in the noon day sun ~ no matter how ever many raw fancies I see ... ever and always and perpetually does my mind and my heart and my body return
to you.
I've been 'out there' ~ I've tasted morsels from as many plates as I have chosen to.
That's how I know that lust and beauty are idols with empty eyes, that visceral promises from others are often more mirage than meat once behind closed doors.
Being physically and mentally with others is a friendly enough business, at times ~ rough and ready or slow and burning, and sometimes lust & the having arrived is surprisingly repellent ... but after the body and mind has cooled, one returns to one's own solitary bed.
One returns ~ layered in the cloaks and skins of others, and just like the impressions you have made upon them, they wear you too ~ but no matter how invigorating and soul enlightening an experience is, once exchanged ~ it can still never match the peace of lying down to sleep in your arms.
Others come and go with the flash of a showgirl's leg
~ or they come and go smile and nod of a grey and fascinating head,
Or... on they come and have gone on the fragrant knotted belly of a youth who says he thinks that he loves you ...
I know what love and beauty and wisdom are behind closed doors and pressed up against open doors and against streetlights ~ I have tasted all their mouths and I know that I could taste more and more until my eyes cease to open upon their endless wheel.
But, in truth.
There is only one You.
Yes. Sure. I'm a traveler of flesh and of spirit ~ always keen to befriend the natives of each mindset I meet. I know how to partake of the rites of strangers, then to part amicably, or at times to get the hell out in a hurry by the seat of my pants!
But I'm telling you, even the airports of wilds flesh become wearisome if you can never go home.
You, my darling Nicimos.
Understand that you ...
Are.
Home.
Xxo ~