love, Ruth Nineke

Through My Tempest

Post Published: July 26, 2023

I’m going through it and I don’t know what’s next

The squeaking springs in this bed are bending beneath my neck, as I struggle to find a comfortable spot to dream I can feel you in my imagination.

Your soul surrounds me, your peaceful palm pressed against mine, the edges of your fingertips gripping gently on my knuckles

Guiding me by my hands with your trademark tenderness and love, away from the rage which burns within me, to the promise of your touch

I have felt that touch

I know its gentleness and I know the soft cadence of your kind words, the endless compassion in your understanding eyes, the patience and temperance in your every measured motion, the deliberate and determined presence you always present

And it haunts me

The memory drowns me with a sharp and unrelenting envy for all those things which I have never known, yet quietly yearned for. And by your frequent and necessary absences I’m reminded of my impossible wants, and repeatedly submerged beneath the glacial bricks of my own exaggerated loneliness, my karmic isolation

I only learned through your lips that pleasure could be so sublime as dreams, and equally so swiftly transformed into such a pronounced pain, evermore amplified by the time already gone

After feeling your body between my thighs, your essence within my space, your face against mine, the deliciousness of your spells below my waist

Each impression so soft

Each smile so unassuming

Each word full of humility and respect, reverence

And when you were not there I became lost inside my fears

Then, began my tempest, a storm previously, and so profoundly contained. The deluge so destructive; its horrid devastation, its absolute torment, an abomination to myself to behold, had returned to me, and now I was a weak an unwilling ambassador to even attempt to control it

When all I’d forgotten I wanted I was given incrementally in those secondary hours; seven at once, in celebration, the birth of an acquaintance, and then again four or five more, an overcast breakfast, a playful evening, a lingering glance, an intoxicating dance, passionate embrace to see you later, followed by a fleeting salutation where I craved a languid and deeply intimate reunion

And here, shortly after this perplexing and vexing “good night” I found myself at the beginning of the end. As I was at the threshold of the doorway, daring one foolish footstep past starting to fall in love with my friend

Oh god oh no

The poetry, the floral adornment, the music, and confessions, the smiles, and twinkling eyes, the prayers, the spells, the meditations, the dreams, the teas, the predictions and my own hyper-fixations, my everlasting perpetuated elations

Oh God!

You were everything I wanted, how could you ask me that? How could I answer? While I was still so possessed and harangued by the beast within!

It wasn’t your fault and it isn’t, slightly?

No. It was ours, both. You both. Me and you, and you and her, and her and him, and me and him; and when you look at all these terrible players it all begins to seem so grim. But all this and that to say I miss you immensely to this very difficult day.

And I don’t know how or who could ever dictate the way, but what I wouldn’t give if I could, to be on that roof again, dancing inside your arms and the very safety I’ve always craved, nestled against your neck and wrapped in that very first enchanting embrace.


Tell me what you think before we both die



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