you might not think so but
time really does stop, doesn’t it,
i declared perhaps too vigorously
knowing that thoughts are precious
but what of it?
and not in a metaphorical sense
although it might strike one so
that seconds should silently collide
into one another like atoms
yes, just like that
crashing careening carelessly
as a populace hungry for love
or lust or lushly climbing gardens
only to—
get to the bloody point
okay, it’s like this: i looked up
just now, and there you were—again
your back to me, your hair matted
with sweat dripping down your neck
you know what I mean
and all I wanted was to reach for you
and lasciviously lick clean your skin
unchaste, unromantic, unpretentious
just you and me and our flesh
once more as one
Salt Lake City 20 Aug 2012
George Ellington 
God, George. This is unbelievably hot. I would try to say something more intellectual, more artistic, but words fail me and all I can say is this is…yummy. Thanks.
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Thank you, Susan. It did rather feel that way — both the sensation of that moment of living memory and the writing it down.
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