The storm continues. What a delight. Overpowered by the foaming seas under an angry, spitting sky, I find myself looking up and laughing. Mouth full of salt water and eyes forced shut, my laugh still echoes in the night.

Had dinner with my ex yesterday. She thought I was a nervous wreck for some unnamed reason, since I couldn't stop blabbering on over the table. About? No clue really. My guess would be random jolts of absolute bullshit. I honestly didn't even notice that my mouth was going on and on. As I made my way home later I kept cracking up about how much of a goofball I must've seemed.

Strange things are afoot. Surprising, beautiful, dangerous things. The first two are self-explanatory to those involved, the third a necessary evil on a road peppered with pitfalls. There is quite a lot on the line. A lot to lose in the greater scheme of things, even if I'm not entirely sure what that would be.

If I'm able to find a moment of peace and clarity, it is swiftly torn apart by biting sensations of fear, joy, confusion, fulfillment, insecurity, you name it. Perhaps I'm setting myself up for a fall, perhaps I'm reading too much into it, perhaps the dreamer in me is already neck-deep in quicksand, perhaps the little poet boy is two steps away from the gallows yet again. But perhaps doesn't have a place in my vocabulary right now. I'm having a hard time giving a rat's ass about what anyone thinks and finding the experience quite envigorating.

I fight the urge to allow reason over the threshold with tooth and nail - this is the heart's domain. You shall not pass. I dig myself a quiet hole for contemplation, only to let the shovel fall with the realization that my mind has already wandered aimlessly to some other location. Off to catch the bastard, then!

Flashes of soft shadows and softer whispers, quivering bodies and hearts beating wildly. Of secret smiles and stolen moments behind the curtain. Sanctuaries in the dark, where you need not remember your name. Of moments of impenetrable intimacy amidst a sea of bodies, sound and light. Of wavelengths and words that made me want to lose control. My heart feels a small stab and I inhale violently. Terror grips me. Then my eyes open and I exhale with a smile. I am alive. Where are you? This is your doing as well. Tell me what measure of thanks you are owed.

I hope I don't fuck things up or drive any moment into a collision. I hope my mouth and usage of said weapon won't derail the train before it has left the station. I hope I'm not being pegged the fool, parading in the parlor with a paper crown and delusions of kinghood. I hope my heartbeat is understood for all its strength and fragility. I hope things will align themselves without tissue tearing and I can offer and receive a measure of something without threat or worry. I hope my lips won't tremble if I'm offered a kiss. I hope my words are heard by more than ears. I hope I'm allowed to feel warmth without knowing it's my own blood warming my exposed skin.

I hope...