parallax

The reason the moon follows you in the car
is that it's so fucking huge,
and it's hurtling so fast through space
that you can't see the movement
with your primitive vision.

So you believe,
childlike,
that the moon follows you.

It's called the absence of parallax,
and I always had a problem with the concept,
but I never let it bother me.

Until today.

Today, I laced up my shoes,
and hit the road, determined to
punish you out of my brain
for a moment,
just for a moment,
by putting one foot in front of the other.

The road passed by me nonchalantly
with that fucking phrase beating in time with
my running shoes.

And with every repetition, you.

The absence of parallax is ...
(skipping dinner that night,
that night when our longing won
out over common sense,
and we ended
cheek to cheek,
dancing in the mist,
lost in unbidden
desires, and later woke up
in tangled arms and
sex-stained sheets.)

I got to that point in the run
where the sidewalk heads up for a bit,
and the early evening sun tore the will from my spine,
as the sweat rolled down my face,
and dripped from my sides,
with one foot in front of the other,
I hit a new playlist,
one with a set of balls
thinking

the absence of parallax is...
(Me, me over your desk,
and you worked me so masterfully
that I had tears in my eyes to match
the sweet welts on my ass,
which you soothed before
you reminded me
where I belonged)

One foot in front of the other,
the moon still on the other side of the world
and the absence of parallax is

(us, stunningly naked together,
naked in the awe-struck sense that
this is all there ever was,
and eyes closed,
hands trembling,
you wrap your arms
around me
and let me pretend)

I came to that point when the run became
a soul-body challenge if you will,
One more step. One more breath.
Hitting the wall and breaking through the other side.

And as I took that deep breath, ready to push through,
it fucking hit me..

(the way I still blush
when you lasciviously peek up
my skirt, even though...
you're pushing it up past
my hips, as I hook a leg around
yours and pull you close)

The absence of parallax is ....

the moon follows the car
one foot in front of the other
and you...

The absence of parallax is not just
having the moon follow you when you drive;
it's realizing you're about to hit a fucking brick wall
a second
before

it's
too
late.

I decided to walk the rest of the way.

I couldn't breathe after that, you know.