The Color Of Hunger

Archive for December 2012

As the evenings become cooler and night closer to day, we are reminded of the changes in season. The changes within ourselves. Each spring we smolder, waiting to burn through the summer passion that we accept or want to be waiting at our door. Ideas, lovers, ideals. Year after year – disappointment. The passion escapes us. A snowman made of sand. But not this one.
The ‘it’ is there as we hoped. The ‘it’ burns hot. Suddenly, everything is interesting. The creases in our palms. The blood in our veins. The history of us. We begin to connect mutual urges of curiosity, thinking thoughts on a level that is solely ours. Physically, mentally, emotionally. Reevaluating the noise you feed me over pillows no one else can hear. Entangled in each other; hands venture, exclusive pleasure. When your body and mine lie together under a white sheet. The whole long continent of you. The pale ridgeline of your collarbone and hip and thigh. The comforting filling and refilling of your chest. The warmth I so completely get lost in. There is nothing that needs to be explained. But how did we get here? Do we belong? Why are we always so shy on the answers?
Relaxed and patient, we submit to the flux of our present feeling. Changing the way we think about each other with every new encounter. Bringing you down to things you can’t conceive. Knowing that it is I who has done it. Seeing your wonderful spirit dependent upon the obscenity of your need. Witnessing you as you are, as you face the world with your clean, proud strength. Then to see you, in my bed, surrendering to any infamous whim I may devise. With your guilty little half smile. Watching your dishonor. To which you’ll submit to for the sake of an unspeakable sensation. You are the boy who wonders into hearts without knocking or wiping your feet, my love. I am the girl who says goodbye but never really lets go. We are the aimless, the lost, the constant consumers of endless fascination.
And now, as the evenings become cooler, night closer to day, we are reminded of the changes in season. Crisp autumn air stimulating fresh relations. Inhale. Exhale. We breath each other in and through and down and out. The wants, the needs. Via you. Via me. The faults, the flaws, the imperfections, the personality extractions. I’ve spent hours contemplating the words to say to you, but no combination of twenty six different letters could ever accurately capture even a sliver of what this feeling is. Yet I continue to want it. I need it really. You are both my umbrella and my rain. But I will always be left trying to figure out how that can be.


Spokane, WA. 26 years young. Aquarius, of course. I am a very optimistic individual driven by passion and creativity. Music is my inspiration to everything. I dig the nightlife. I enjoy discovering new craft beers and breweries. I like animals more than humans. The ocean is amazing. I have no idea what I wanna do with my life and prolly never will. But I'm going to succeed because I'm crazy enough to think I can.
December 2012
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