Choosing which adventure

     Wasting time. Waiting for the eyes to feel heavy,
the need of closure until the morning light.

     Ah why is it that the only way I can feel anything is
when the wind is upon my face, my soul? The echoing
caresses of the breeze inside my ears? Ah as simple
as the thought may be, the soul drives a hard bargain.

   Stay stationary the mind says but the paleness
beckons for the adventure of fresh breaths in the
crisp air.

   Soaking up the moments that itch for a soft tickle.
Oh arching my shoulders and flexing my fingers does
nothing to the stretching inside my soul. The teeth
grinding need. Oh how do I distance the thought from
the memories? How do I clear all the tingling from
the memory?

    Oh Jehovah I pray to you for this small amount of
whimpering to stop. Anything to create a barrier, to
make a tolerance of the fireworks bursting within.

    Walk it off. Sing it off. Just get outside. Breathe.
Hold tight to the coolness of the evening sky. Raise
my eyes to the dark navy night, to the stars that
captivate the spirit. Holding closely the dreams of
a distant smile. A smirk that is just for me.

    Still a blush overcomes the paleness. Just holding
myself outside for a little while longer before the
dive into the warm Wedgwood silk linens. Oh just
the crunching of the coverlet causes another arching
fit. I growl with the taunt ridges and curl into a ball.
Hoping that the burning sizzles and fades.

    Oh how sleep and a memory takes hold. Nodding
to agree that a solid viewed form of olive tones
can melt a coldness of slate blue. Ah to just back
away into a dreamless sleep. Yes. Perhaps that smile
will bring heat into the thought and all else will
evaporate into thinness.

    Perhaps, yes? Hmm. Silk and cotton entertained
in the softest hues of pink intertwined with lacy
whites. La. The eyes finally drift shut and a peace
takes control.

     Calm until the morning light. A smile in the
works.