Tuesday, January 26, 2010

you've got a lot of nerve (pt 2)

The demons have been evicted from my guts after another long night which ended in me coming home alone from a dark, sex-starved bar.

I'm stoned, sitting on the back porch of my apartment. I'm on the third floor, dreaming of the West. If I squint my eyes just enough and use every bit of my imagination, the rising pointed tops of the apartment building in front of me look like a series of mountaintops. Around me I imagine the sprawl of burnt red tile roofs on houses that have been built atop the thickets and cracked brown earth. I see yards of shimmering rock and occasional green grass, neatly cropped and watered constantly to prevent it from being scorched, turned brown like the earth.

My ears fill with voices from somewhere in front and below. The Western dream fades. I look towards the apartment complex pool, situated a hundred yards directly in front of me, I light a cigarette and drag. The nicotine mixes with the THC as I watch the gorgeous woman from the apartment building next to mine stroll around the pool as she talks to a friend. The gorgeous one is Mariela, her friends name, I don't know.

My eyes linger on her profile, then she turns back towards me as I gaze longingly, lovingly at her muscular, glistening thighs. I watch them clench and relax as she moves from beside the lounge chair where her friend is sitting, to the pool. She slides her long foot into the blue water, stepping knee deep. The water ripples and kisses her golden skin. Facing me and her friend, she brings her hands to her hips and continues conversing, but too quietly for me to make out the words. I am lulled by the rhythm of them.

Somebody begins knocking on my door just as she immerses herself into the cool blue. I've already decided I'm not going to answer it. I'm going to stay here and watch Mariela swim. Then again, a knock. I'm trying not to let myself be distracted from watching her beautiful body glide through the water. The third knock, gets me up out of my chair, stepping slowly towards the door, still deciding whether or not I'm actually going to answer. I flip the lock and turn the knob. There's my answer.

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