Believing In Something

 She told me, in the late hours of the evening, that her religion was love. She began to practice it with me as we spent every waking moment embracing in some fashion. Cigarettes building up in the ash tray by the bed, and bottles slowly losing their liquid. 

 Her slender fingers caressed my jaw and slipped passed my lips. The taste of her salt ever-present on my tongue. She had the flavor of many loves that died in her hands and I wanted to be the first to survive it. 

 You never feel loneliness until you're in the company of someone that makes you realize there's another alternative to it. Emotions peaking and then plummeting, I couldn't express to her how I felt and she said it wouldn't change anything if I could. 

 Watching the sun set and rise above and behind a horizon I had never noticed. How many other things had I taken for granted this early in life? 

 Silk blankets covering naked bodies. She kissed me and said, "Welcome to what life is all about," and slid her leg over mine.

 

Reviews

[Rochelle Tyler]

I think this is what every woman hopes to be for every partner she is with. Someone they will remember, someone they learned something valuable from. I really love everything from the first line to the last. "...bottles slowly losing their liquid." "She had the flavor of many loves that died in her hands and I wanted to be the first to survive it." I love both those lines; much more powerful than just saying "We drank all that was left of the wine" or "I wanted to be the person she spent the rest of her life with." One more thing, I liked the matter-of-fact delivery of her saying "Welcome to what life is all about...". This seemed to ground the perspective of things after all the description and detail before this. Well done.

[jenniewren (J.W. Bouwma..]

you know, this one touches me so deeply. *ponders* you have this gentle tone to your narration that always draws me in closer, to make the space between the stroyteller and the audience and the glasses of something more intimate. like that would make me soak up more of your words.

you created the most beautiful tale of love, and love lost, but not regretted. your homely details of sheets sliding and bottles building up give it a sense of true time passing. and as always, the sense of surreality, of a world that is just slightly to the left of this one.

it feels mature and hopeful and most of all, real.

this is pure magic Davey-love.

[Leap]

Beautiful Davey. I know you probably don't want to here this, but it makes me look back at Kels and I. Consuming your life in that of another, or just consuming it with love, in general...it can be profound.
"Cigarettes building up in the ash tray by the bed, and bottles slowly losing their liquid." -- This is such a simple, and unique way to describe physical consumption through this aftermath. And there's something special about the line: "Welcome to what life is all about." I don't know how to pin-point it, but I was really drawn to this line. Kudos buddy. Hope to see you tonight...let's drink!