from the diary of an artist (III)

[…] …and you were dragging me along endless rainy fields, mud caressing my thighs and testing their resistance to shivers and to the desire to run. you were pulling me from one of my hands, and my naked skin was slowly rubbing the ground saturated with water, predicting the coldest orgasm in my life, while rain trickled down my back towards the tips of the stray grass blades still hoping for sunlight. strands of hair, damp and heavy, obeyed earth’s gravity, while the other hand of mine clawed its fingers every now and then around some accidental stone onto which it stumbled in its slow sliding motion. the hardest of all things was me trying to not rush you – to really not rush myself towards that foreseeable dimensional end…it felt beautifully awkward, the whole thing, and i think i wished you could drag me forever through that moist vastness…
next thing i know, sunlight flooded my room, my bed was frustratingly dry and the freudian scent of my dream, still lingering in the air, reminded me again of what my body already knew […]

© Liliana Negoi

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