It’s Going to Be A Good Day…
Sweat profuse out the pores on my skin…I was not even hot, quickly searching on the internet under tags like fasting and sweat-I found out that sweating can be a sign of danger. This was only my second day on water as my only consumption to renew me spiritually, emotionally, politically, and physically. I registered the warning signs of sweating and quickly took a couple of swigs of spring water to re-liquefy my body and fight off dehydration. Afterwards, I took a light 30 minute walk around the block of my blossoming neighborhood. For the first time, I saw the buds popping off the trees, the green leaves hanging confidently, and the colors of reds, blues, and yellows bursting on the landscaped yards that comes with living in a predominantly Mexican neighborhood-I found the beauty in the little things while listening to Pandora’s India Arie station on my smart phone. Ready to tackle the day, I came home turned on the sizzling water in the bath-it takes a while to get it to the scorching heat that I like…threw my clothes any type of way in my room…stripped and headed towards a shower that was going to hit my body just how I liked it as I adjusted the shower head. At that moment I would have a soapy intimate experience with Dove-while continuing to listen to meaningful R&B artists like Joe, Jill Scott, and Maxwell.
Sweat profuse out the pores on my skin…I was not even hot, quickly searching on the internet under tags like fasting and sweat-I found out that sweating can be a sign of danger. This was only my second day on water as my only consumption to renew me spiritually, emotionally, politically, and physically. I registered the warning signs of sweating and quickly took a couple of swigs of spring water to re-liquefy my body and fight off dehydration. Afterwards, I took a light 30 minute walk around the block of my blossoming neighborhood. For the first time, I saw the buds popping off the trees, the green leaves hanging confidently, and the colors of reds, blues, and yellows bursting on the landscaped yards that comes with living in a predominantly Mexican neighborhood-I found the beauty in the little things while listening to Pandora’s India Arie station on my smart phone. Ready to tackle the day, I came home turned on the sizzling water in the bath-it takes a while to get it to the scorching heat that I like…threw my clothes any type of way in my room…stripped and headed towards a shower that was going to hit my body just how I liked it as I adjusted the shower head. At that moment I would have a soapy intimate experience with Dove-while continuing to listen to meaningful R&B artists like Joe, Jill Scott, and Maxwell.
Blissfully Speaking…
I hate to reach back to the 70s lingo, but I was grooving having the time of my life swishing soap and water all over my corpse with the traditional blue towel, while my needing-to-be-re-twisted-locks got all wet…But I didn’t care. Washing my face with family dollar’s Apricot scrub, trying to show myself love by taking care of my body-then THAT tune came on…
I’ll Keep Your Secret…
I mean I was not even thinking of him…I was trying to erase him out my head so hard that the board would have imprints of my hand movement going back and forth… “I will…keep your secrets…Just picture me as the pages in your diary…”…Dam!…Alicia Keys had to trigger my heart…had to open that part that I have been trying to deny…
We had a whirlwind mental and spiritual affair…both sat on the white clouds talking about all the possibities…to afraid to explore the chemistry between us in the sweet beginnings… “Just…picture me as the pages in your diary…” Likes, dislikes, comforts, discomforts, abilities, disabilities…I knew it all…and I still do… “I won’t tell…your secrets…” Similarly, he knew mine…He probably could write an emotional autobiography of me…
Letting the burning water glide down my brown skin, I find the only thing that could hold me up as I experienced a tornando of untouched feelings imploding, leading to tears down my eyes… “Just picture me as the pages in your diary…”
I saw a quick flashback of the night we decided to put our feelings to the test…We were made scientists with no safety gear and preparing to create a nuclear weapon in the form of a physical love bomb that would be more potent than uranium and plutonium…Total meltdown… “Just picture me as the pages in your diary…”
A stormy moment…and we have never been the same-though I have tried to get it back…It’s like reaching back for that delicious red apple only to find someone else has picked it…
“I feel…such a connection…” Both of us confided in a mutual friend, giving our own interpretation to what went wrong…I didn’t find out till later that he had even spoken of the chemical fire. I didn’t keep his secrets then…Yep…I told…how I felt…I described the feeling…He stole my heart and I wanted him to get in trouble…I was the little girl watching the boy get hit with a ruler by the teacher while I sucked on a lollipop…in between licks saying… “Nan-Nanny-Nan-Nan…” I wanted someone else to know of his foul behavior, protect other women from him…most of all…I wanted revenge…I wanted to destroy any opportunity of him loving anyone but me…My Smeagol tendencies appeared as I held his soul close to me, patting it with an obsession undefined saying, “My Precious…My Pretty…”
“Just picture me as the pages in your diary…”
Chemical Imbalance…
I realized nothing had changed…I am still quite crazy for him though I am not as apparent as before…Listening to the Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd, hoping that each chord of the guitar I am revealed his secrets…like yester-year… “Only you know what is talked about baby boy…”
The rain-like streams began to cool over my skin, it was time for me to get out the shower…I was so fresh…so clean…But his residue still remained on me like your favorite perfume you know you need to change…
“No one has to know what you are feelin…No one but me and you…I’ll keep your secrets…Just think of me as the pages in your diary…”
A Beautiful Residue…
Dry towel…Oil of Olay face cream…Degree deodorant…Chanel No. 5 sprays…Gel Body Oil with Brazilian Nut and Almond Oil…I treated my body real good after caressing it with H20…Yet and still he was still in my mind…He consumed my joy…and a sadness and longing appeared like the ghosts from Scrooge…an original blissful experience…became simply…a hot shower and memories… ©NEEMA
I hate to reach back to the 70s lingo, but I was grooving having the time of my life swishing soap and water all over my corpse with the traditional blue towel, while my needing-to-be-re-twisted-locks got all wet…But I didn’t care. Washing my face with family dollar’s Apricot scrub, trying to show myself love by taking care of my body-then THAT tune came on…
I’ll Keep Your Secret…
I mean I was not even thinking of him…I was trying to erase him out my head so hard that the board would have imprints of my hand movement going back and forth… “I will…keep your secrets…Just picture me as the pages in your diary…”…Dam!…Alicia Keys had to trigger my heart…had to open that part that I have been trying to deny…
We had a whirlwind mental and spiritual affair…both sat on the white clouds talking about all the possibities…to afraid to explore the chemistry between us in the sweet beginnings… “Just…picture me as the pages in your diary…” Likes, dislikes, comforts, discomforts, abilities, disabilities…I knew it all…and I still do… “I won’t tell…your secrets…” Similarly, he knew mine…He probably could write an emotional autobiography of me…
Letting the burning water glide down my brown skin, I find the only thing that could hold me up as I experienced a tornando of untouched feelings imploding, leading to tears down my eyes… “Just picture me as the pages in your diary…”
I saw a quick flashback of the night we decided to put our feelings to the test…We were made scientists with no safety gear and preparing to create a nuclear weapon in the form of a physical love bomb that would be more potent than uranium and plutonium…Total meltdown… “Just picture me as the pages in your diary…”
A stormy moment…and we have never been the same-though I have tried to get it back…It’s like reaching back for that delicious red apple only to find someone else has picked it…
“I feel…such a connection…” Both of us confided in a mutual friend, giving our own interpretation to what went wrong…I didn’t find out till later that he had even spoken of the chemical fire. I didn’t keep his secrets then…Yep…I told…how I felt…I described the feeling…He stole my heart and I wanted him to get in trouble…I was the little girl watching the boy get hit with a ruler by the teacher while I sucked on a lollipop…in between licks saying… “Nan-Nanny-Nan-Nan…” I wanted someone else to know of his foul behavior, protect other women from him…most of all…I wanted revenge…I wanted to destroy any opportunity of him loving anyone but me…My Smeagol tendencies appeared as I held his soul close to me, patting it with an obsession undefined saying, “My Precious…My Pretty…”
“Just picture me as the pages in your diary…”
Chemical Imbalance…
I realized nothing had changed…I am still quite crazy for him though I am not as apparent as before…Listening to the Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd, hoping that each chord of the guitar I am revealed his secrets…like yester-year… “Only you know what is talked about baby boy…”
The rain-like streams began to cool over my skin, it was time for me to get out the shower…I was so fresh…so clean…But his residue still remained on me like your favorite perfume you know you need to change…
“No one has to know what you are feelin…No one but me and you…I’ll keep your secrets…Just think of me as the pages in your diary…”
A Beautiful Residue…
Dry towel…Oil of Olay face cream…Degree deodorant…Chanel No. 5 sprays…Gel Body Oil with Brazilian Nut and Almond Oil…I treated my body real good after caressing it with H20…Yet and still he was still in my mind…He consumed my joy…and a sadness and longing appeared like the ghosts from Scrooge…an original blissful experience…became simply…a hot shower and memories… ©NEEMA
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