salted

i try to recall every word that you speak

because every word that you speak is so sweet

and i try to recall - as i walk through the darkness - 

of the abandoned promenade streets

my head is spinning with the spin of a few drinks

and every drink is a new spin - on the words i can't keep - 

so i stumble and i wonder, how you stumbled home

i stumble through the night, cold and alone

I found him one night; alone and shirtless with two open wounds on his back. He had rough dark skin from days spent out in the sun, roaming in his own despair. In all those years, I never thought of asking him for his name, so I just called him my dark angel.

Despite the bloody mess of his back I couldn't help but notice his hands. Long, strong fingers and veins that appeared to glow under the moonlight. His touch would eventually make my heartbeat race while  my mind buzzed with incomprehensible thoughts. Colors would blend into grey shadows and all I would clearly sense after that would be sounds and smells.  

He told me he was in love with the water. "The waves have carried me to you." He'd whisper. He could never really tell me how he ended up on my side but I trusted him, trusted his smile, his shoulders. Night after night I would wait as the sun finished setting, knowing he would arrive shortly after. Days and weeks passed and I fell deeply in love with my dark angel. I might have manifested his appearance but his decision to keep coming back was his, I think. 

Perhaps I jumped too fast.

Maybe it was the way his lips tasted of salt and how it strangely reminded me of blood. It could have been how I could finally sleep without the sheets covering my feet whenever he was there. Or, how my hands fit perfectly into his, and how they never felt too hot. Regardless, I jumped. Jumped into and out of bedroom windows and out of closet doors. I jumped and fell away from the bruises and the scars. I kept falling faster and faster, away from every punch and broken mirror. I jumped into a wave of constant crashing pleasures and desires. I jumped into what I had envisioned, wanted, and created, long before I ever met him. 

The dark angel roams. However, he has other window sills to trace with his long fingers. He will forever claim the sand and waves in my mind. The smell of the ocean will be his for as long as I can hold onto and every crashing wave upon my shore will be followed by a sigh of anticipation.