Piccolo
Last night I poured 15ml of night nurse into a measuring cup, prepared my throat for the bitter taste before pouring the lot back. Sleep hasn’t come easily these past weeks and with a thousand thoughts spinning through my head I decided I wanted the kind of deep and lasting sleep that you wake groggily from and wonder where you are.
It worked. I fell into a cavernous sleep, hollow and without dreams. I woke once or twice and felt a hazy pleasure that the hours before dawn were still a way off and my body still had time to dig itself deeper into the mattress. I pulled G’s arm like the corner of a blanket and wrapped it tightly around my waist and then I slept some more.
I’m not sick, but my heart hurts and I feel the cloud that peeps out from behind my sunshine making its way out into the open again.
This morning I woke up and tore my weary body from the groove in our bed. I flung my feet over the edge and forced my self upwards in one drawn out and heavy lunge. G smiled sleepily at me and in that one moment it all felt sunny again. I felt him follow behind me into the bathroom and I watched him move clumsily through morning rituals while I waited for the water to run hot and the mirrors to fog up in the mist.
With the taste of peppermint on my breath and a layer of moisturiser coating my skin I slipped into a pair of trousers I hadn’t worn in months and felt a small leap of pleasure that I’d found my way back into them and didn’t have to hand them over to the pile of long forgotten items that no longer saw the light of day.
G pulled Piccolo the scooter out for me. I popped my helmet on and laughing I let him kiss my nose goodbye through the lid shade. Piccolo feels like an old trusty friend that bobs beneath the weight of me. He’s a new purchase, a gift from my love and the space where my best alone moments are spent. Piccolo is my white chrome rimmed scooter with a ferocious 50cc engine that I unleash with ladylike pleasure on the tarmac that stretches out before me. I love him even when the temperature drops and I climb on back to feel the icy cold wind cracking like a whip across my face. I revel in every moment I’m free as a bird bobbing along to the pepp pepping of his voice as we make our way through the grind. Our trip is my awakening and while we’re zipping along I can feel the morning sleepiness vaporise or the evening smokiness dissolve.
This day my heart hurt, but after waking next to G, watching him make my morning full and listening to the deep tones of his voice wish me good day, I climb on back of Piccolo, pull the accelerator and forget the heaviness and the weight around me. Today I'll let my spirit soar.
It worked. I fell into a cavernous sleep, hollow and without dreams. I woke once or twice and felt a hazy pleasure that the hours before dawn were still a way off and my body still had time to dig itself deeper into the mattress. I pulled G’s arm like the corner of a blanket and wrapped it tightly around my waist and then I slept some more.
I’m not sick, but my heart hurts and I feel the cloud that peeps out from behind my sunshine making its way out into the open again.
This morning I woke up and tore my weary body from the groove in our bed. I flung my feet over the edge and forced my self upwards in one drawn out and heavy lunge. G smiled sleepily at me and in that one moment it all felt sunny again. I felt him follow behind me into the bathroom and I watched him move clumsily through morning rituals while I waited for the water to run hot and the mirrors to fog up in the mist.
With the taste of peppermint on my breath and a layer of moisturiser coating my skin I slipped into a pair of trousers I hadn’t worn in months and felt a small leap of pleasure that I’d found my way back into them and didn’t have to hand them over to the pile of long forgotten items that no longer saw the light of day.
G pulled Piccolo the scooter out for me. I popped my helmet on and laughing I let him kiss my nose goodbye through the lid shade. Piccolo feels like an old trusty friend that bobs beneath the weight of me. He’s a new purchase, a gift from my love and the space where my best alone moments are spent. Piccolo is my white chrome rimmed scooter with a ferocious 50cc engine that I unleash with ladylike pleasure on the tarmac that stretches out before me. I love him even when the temperature drops and I climb on back to feel the icy cold wind cracking like a whip across my face. I revel in every moment I’m free as a bird bobbing along to the pepp pepping of his voice as we make our way through the grind. Our trip is my awakening and while we’re zipping along I can feel the morning sleepiness vaporise or the evening smokiness dissolve.
This day my heart hurt, but after waking next to G, watching him make my morning full and listening to the deep tones of his voice wish me good day, I climb on back of Piccolo, pull the accelerator and forget the heaviness and the weight around me. Today I'll let my spirit soar.
posted by Teaine at 3:18 AM
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