The same way that I can sit in a forest for hours, eyes open wide in awe at the beauty of the life that surrounds me in every direction, I can get lost in the touch, the taste, the thought, the sight of him.

As I cup his face in my hands, I fall deep into his luminous, starry gaze. His eyes twinkle when they meet mine, reminiscent of a calm lake; the pull that tempts one to brush their hand across the still water to feel the cool dampness on their hand and watch the ripples travel across the surface. His perfect curls fall to the side of his face like ferns along the side of a woodland path, reaching out and listing softly as they bend towards the earth. I can close my eyes and still envision every inch of his face, from his forehead where I have laid a thousand kisses to his perfect nose; his soft cheeks like green, rolling hills on his face's landscape, flowers dotting the hills only making them that much more beautiful.

I imagine leaning in to touch his lips to mine, and I feel butterflies emerging and fluttering in my stomach like a forest that's been rejuvenated by the arrival of monarchs after their long journey. Our lips meet delicately, like the soft touch of a butterfly's wings. I can feel his breath mix with mine, like a soft summer breeze flowing through a grove, wisping between trees and warming all that it touches.

I can feel his hands glide over mine, the smoothness of a perfect skipping stone found along a river. However I could never throw this rock to the creek to see it skip across the surface once or twice; instead, this is the rock that I would keep in my hand, in my pocket forever, there to hold and touch and love every day forever - for it is the perfect stone. Our hands intertwine like the velcro-hooks of burdock seeds, forever holding on to one another and fitting together perfectly, as if designed for that very purpose.

His body is a living manifestation of the power and grace of nature. Our lips meet like waves crashing onto the shore, with passion and intensity. Our bodies move together, movements powerful and synchronized. Similar to the way trees sway in the wind and are caressed by its force at different moments, we can hold each other tenderly and mutually explore the depths of our desire. Nails leave marks, leaving permanent marks like engravings on the trunk of an old maple tree. Lips turn to teeth. Bruises are left trailing up the path from his collarbone to under his chin, the trails branching out and leaving his body bruised and bloody in my wake. His body ripples against mine, in consentual turmoil. I relish exploring the woods aimlessly, but I find that I always end up at the same destination.

A storm is good for a gentle forest every once in a while.

Clouds roll through dark skies,

Tossing about and dancing,

Rushing in cold wind.

Drops of rain descend,

Gently tapping on the earth,

Plants reaching upward.

Lightning splits the sky,

Thunder rumbles through the air,

Angry sky ablaze.

Thunder booms and rolls,

Lightning dances across clouds,

Nature's wrath on show.

Raindrops gently slow,

Nature's music fills the air,

Renewing the earth.

Sun breaks through the clouds,

Raindrops glisten on the leaves,

Renewed life emerges.

I wish I could tell you

How much happier I am now, without you.

Feeling better about my body,

Taking care of myself,

Learning to stand up for myself and put myself first.

I wish I could remind you

How much you hurt me,

Abused me,

Manipulated me,

And almost killed me.

I wish I could tell you

How I’m doing fine,

That I overcame the obstacles you set for me,

And how I’m finally moving forward in life.

I wish I could show you

How much you missed out on,

How much you fucked up,

How he loves me so much more than you ever did

And knows how to show it.

I wish I could tell you

How happy I am to be without you,

Even though you convinced me it wasn’t possible.

I wish I could show you

How wrong you were;

That I deserve to be loved,

That I can be accepted as I am,

That I am not the burden you claimed I was.

But you just aren’t worth my time anymore.

I'm happier now.

* This is a repost of a previous work, to submit for the Challenge of the Month.

I wish I could tell you

How much happier I am now, without you.

Feeling better about my body,

Taking care of myself,

Learning to stand up for myself and put myself first.

I wish I could remind you

How much you hurt me,

Abused me,

Manipulated me,

And almost killed me.

I wish I could tell you

How I’m doing fine,

That I overcame the obstacles you set for me,

And how I’m finally moving forward in life.

I wish I could show you

How much you missed out on,

How much you fucked up,

How he loves me so much more than you ever did

And knows how to show it.

I wish I could tell you

How happy I am to be without you,

Even though you convinced me it wasn’t possible.

I wish I could show you

How wrong you were;

That I deserve to be loved,

That I can be accepted as I am,

That I am not the burden you claimed I was.

But you just aren’t worth my time anymore.

I'm happier now.

If I had a superpower, I would choose the ability to shapeshift. Not because I want to soar through the clouds as a red-tailed hawk or burrow through the ground as a badger; I don't want to disguise myself as an object or sneak into places people wouldn't usually go; not even for the scientific discoveries that could happen on a microscopic and macroscopic level. But instead I would choose it because my hips have always been a little bit too wide, my hair a little bit to straight, my face a bit too feminine. My skin is too ruddy, my stomach too soft, my legs too pale and scarred. My chest brings me terrible dysphoria, to the point that I save up for surgery with every paycheck, despite my fear and reluctance to even get my blood drawn. The mystery of what rests between my legs brings arguments, and hatred, and even political discourse. Despite it being my own, my body is constantly up for debate; whether or not I should exist is questioned because of the way I was built. I would choose shapeshifting not for my amusement, but because I was born in a body that others use to misread me and puts me at risk.

I sink into the abyss of his eyes, drowning in deep chestnut waves. I feel like I could wander them with the map that I've charted from the many times I've caught myself staring and still become lost in them for days. Eyes so dark that I could fall into them forever; until the sun hits them just right and suddenly his eyes dance with rays of honey. Near-black irises turn to beautiful opalescent nebulas of amber and gold, dancing with the stars contained within. Streaks of gold whirl, like dandelions and marigolds in an ocean of coffee.

Loud shoes hitting concrete from bustling people in every direction drowned out the slow clicking of a suitcase’s wheels as they traced the pavement, winding around people as they passed. Buildings towered overhead, stretching skyward as if grasping desperately at the clouds, their tall spires clawing at the heavens. Car engines sputtered as coffee-driven businessmen waited impatiently for lights to glow green. The constant murmur of passing conversations blurred together like a broken, out of tune chord, every individual conversation indiscernible from the next. Grey smog clouded the air, poured out from the surrounding factories sitting just outside of the city’s limits. The smell of fresh-cooked hotdogs wafted through the air as a young woman yelled advertisement for the cart she stood behind.

The soft rhythm of the suitcase dragged behind one of the many strangers was almost soothing in the clamorous cityscape: a constant beat in an ocean of disorder. A calloused palm rubbed against the hard plastic of the case’s worn handle and battered sneakers dragged sleepily over the pavement. For a moment the air was tainted with smoke as a cigarette parted from the stranger’s lips, burning ashes flicked to the ground. No one bats an eye at the stranger - everyone’s lives too busy and hurried to acknowledge a passerby. A shaky hand brings the cigarette to meet the cracked lips again, held in hopes of relief from the anxiety-inducing clamor of the surrounding landscape. A breath, a puff of smoke, and a flick of sparks extinguished by pavement.

The stranger was an odd fellow, dressed in a loose fluorescent tank top depicting a sunset, complete with palm trees and a beach. In stark contrast was the thin, black pants tucked into worn black and white high top sneakers that matched the case pulled behind them. An army green jacket revealed a tattoo barely visible beneath one of the rolled-up sleeves.

That stranger was unremarkable in almost every way but one: they were me.

The clicking came to a halt as I pulled into an alley just off of the main sidewalk, extinguishing the last of the cigarette on the side of a dumpster with a hiss. The cigarette was quickly replaced with a smartphone, glowing blue with a new notification.

Back so soon?

There’s an urban legend about a taxi cab that doesn’t take you where you want to go, but where you need to go. The taxi looks like any other - a yellow car with a checkered line running along the sides of the vehicle, complete with a sign that clearly reads “TAXI” sitting on the roof. The only difference it held from an everyday taxi was that it was driverless.

Well, that and the fact that it sat in your driveway. Waiting.