And I Smile [Enter Gin]

I am momentarily lost, in the idea of the gentle knob of a hip-bone traced with a fingertip in the rising sunlight through blinds. I sigh, contented in absolute urge, because it helps me see so clearly.

I am faced with so... much... want that the ideas in my mind bend, landscapes become lands of peach curved stillness except for breath, after breath. Rib-cages moving and all sensory in the vibrating air of stillness after screaming. Alive, variable, changing, enraged.

Profaning what some consider holy makes it holy. Whoring that which those consider sacred in the covetousness of convention is set to reiterate it's reverence. We fall at the feet of the new because the practiced now takes it for granted and renders it useless. We take the breaks off, and the art of shock is not so nefarious that it doesn't bring you to see that he wonder is still the same.

We are still the same.

We reach for the stars, and if it seems we defy your gods and hate your laws it is because the ideas of thought and imagination superseded and CREATED your perception of what you fear today. And we as a race capitalize on it. We allow ourselves to be UN-defined by it. We rebel to give credence to the spiritual. We damn, just to pray.

And you may find me vile, a man who splits his soul in two's and threes and wonders in the idea of shock, the very heart of crassness. But the future bound moment that six hands caress in the inhale-exhale razor thin shock of light through blinds in the wine-soaked whiskey-tinted heat of the day remind me that the limits are only what we can accept, how much we choose to explore.

And, I smile, because as the light crosses the bones of my hips I realize that it is all there, in the slow travel of light from belly button to breast, to smile to eyes, not in the light, or in the skin, or in the eyes but in the now as perception travels, and her breath sounds like a sigh.

Like perception travels, and two girls touch lips because they know exactly what you will see when they do.

In second, to second, to breath, to blink to sleep, to waking, to smile.

We are smoke that weaves through the second, our now creates itself and we are present.

My palpitations fade, and knowledge comes with sledge hammer certainty. I awake.

And I smile.