I see you looking, but I gotta go home. Yeah, it ain’t easy walking that one mile over and over, drunk or sober, but that’s the mile. My mile.
Incandescent light, smoke-filled air, and endless top shelf liquors lead me into losing myself. Maybe losing myself will lead me to another side of myself. Maybe even a better version of myself. Just maybe, I will understand myself better? A lot of questions, no answers.
Man this mile is long. It’s all in the distance. One mile at a time, or am I losing my mind one mile at a time? Keep moving baby… keep moving is all I can hope to do.
She saw me and wanted the idea. The upright, nine to five, wake up and hit it in the sunshine. Let the warm sun rays warm my face, while I hit that thang from behind. Gripping your hips and biting my bottom lip, trying to ignore the bright light shining off your old oak dresser’s mirror. This thang wetter than a faucet, and soaking me through. Whew she tough. I love it is all I can think, as that work continue to fight back. Listening to the echo of the ceiling fan. Damn thing sounded like a hobbling midget running up aluminum ramp until (CRASH!!!). Did that cheap ass shit fall from the ceiling?
There is a huge commotion, with a crowd of people stumbling over each other to get out of the way. I hear something say, “MAN! Wake up! You still at the bar, but you’re not far from that momentary dream”. These mofo’s in here fighting and tussling in the corner like some little kids fighting over candy from a pinata, but she is chilling with you. She feels secure and unafraid of anyone harming her, because she is with you. Sitting in my lap, letting that phat bubble tickle the tip of my thoughts, she’s as cool as a cucumber, and as hot as a Georgia summer. Looking back at me and biting her lip. She loves what she feels, both inside and out, because she knows it’s real. She made it grow, as we both moved to the old school grooves. Her gyrating her hips, with that smooth, soft, back definition showing between the straps of her cocaine white tee. She trying to make me addict. Constantly moving that bubble and massaging my thoughts her way. She’d already ride me to sleep once. Right there in front of everyone. There ain’t no telling what will happen behind closed doors, if we didn’t take it the back sit of the 1979 Cadillac Eldorado first. If we were in the moment, she’d be pregnant by now.
“What time we leaving baby?”, she asks. I’m acting like I don’t hear her, because I know I want to give in to her. However, I got to go home. Walking that mile, that long fucking mile to nowhere. This woman could be the last mile for a while, if I don’t go home. Just go home!
She is standing between my legs, massaging my thighs, and gazing into my eyes. It was like she could see she had me. All she had to do is be patient, but why did she want me? This woman was beautiful, intelligent, thick, and with her rubbing my thighs, she is causing me to lose all morality.
I mean I’ve fucked her at least twice in my mind. I could walk this ass in half a mile, and still get home in time enough to lay that ass to bed. hmmm, but the ethics of it all. I want to tell her no. Hey, beautiful let me go, I already got a mile to lay, a mile to slay, a mile to walk through. Oh, it’s hard though. She got me hard and looking at her, its just too damn hard to say goodbye.
That smile, that ass, those beautiful eyes, those thick thighs. Its’ all I can do to stay awake. “Let’s go”, she whispers in my ear. She is pulling me and my body is moving towards her. Now, her teeth is glistening the warm waters of the ivory coast. I mumble, “I gotta walk the mile. Just one more mile, until its time”.
She stops me, hugs me, and whispers in my ear, “No. No, you don’t have to walk that mile. There are a million miles out here, but I want you to walk with me. I’ll walk the mile with you, so we can finally get there. Over whatever long distances we have to go, I will be there by your side, to walk with you. I will stand with you and push through a razor field, if I have to. One mile at a time. You hadn’t seen me to just now.
“So you want to be my home?”, I asked.
“Yes, make me your home,” she responds
“I got miles to go before I sleep beautiful. I’m no where near where I thought I would be in my life. Are you sure you want to be that pillow for me?”
Her reply is simple, “Yes”.
Oneron 2019