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Joule’s Anomaly
Juliana hurried. What had been a beautiful summer day hiking the Appalachian Trail was quickly turning into a weather event. She had been completing portions of the trail as her schedule allowed, but lately her progress had been hit and miss. The approaching thunder had an ominous, low rumble that seemed to resonate within her. Her hike was about to be scrapped. Again.
Juliana finally located a trail shelter and quickly entered. A strong gust ripped the door from her grasp and flung it all the way open. She swore and pushed it shut behind her, relieved to have reached some semblance of safety from the coming storm.
“Looks like you made it just in time,” a deep male voice spoke.
Juliana turned around and squinted as her vision adjusted to the dim interior of the shelter. A man sat on the floor with his back propped against his pack. He was writing in a small leather journal. As she shrugged off her own pack, the stranger put his journal aside and rose to his feet. He approached her and offered an outstretched hand, “Arlo.” The timbre of his voice had the same effect on her as the approaching thunder: it somehow was felt more than heard.
She ignored that odd feeling and accepted his hand, “Juliana.”
Zings of electricity instantly flowed between them as they touched. It felt like a strong static shock, but instead of hurting, it felt… good? Juliana quickly pulled her hand away and stepped back.
“Whoa! That was weird, right?” She laughed nervously and rubbed one hand against the other.
Small branches were thrown onto the shelter's metal roof with a noisy clatter. Arlo glanced upward and shook his head, “Not weird at all. These conditions are ideal for energy exchange. Energy stored must be energy released at some point,” he looked at her and continued, “within the atmosphere and perhaps between humans, too...” he trailed off thoughtfully, slowly rubbing his hands together as well. Breaking eye contact, he ran a hand through his hair and gave a self-conscious laugh as he blushed.
He has great hair…I wish I could run my hands through it. Juliana mused.
It was now her turn to blush. The uncharacteristic, intrusive thought caught Juliana off guard.
Really? You've known him, what? A full two minutes? She admonished herself until she felt appropriately guilty.
“Juliana,” Arlo began to ask her something when another thought suddenly occurred to him, “your name…”
“Yeah, but no one calls me that. Everyone has always called me—”
“Jules,” Arlo interjected.
“Yeah! How- How did you know that it would be ‘Jules’ and not ‘Julie’?” She could not hide her surprise.
“Huh… I don't know. Just a guess. It really does suit you, though.” Arlo rubbed his chin with an amused and oddly pleased look on his face. Jules was confused by his reaction, but didn't ask.
Wanting to change the subject, yet hopeful to continue their conversation, Jules queried, “So… what do you do for a living?” She immediately cursed herself inwardly for going with such a generic question.
Arlo watched her kaleidoscope of facial expressions and laughed good-naturedly, “It's okay. I study atmospheric thermodynamics.”
“Okay. I can't even pretend I know what that is,” Jules laughed, “but can I guess what it has to do with?”
“Of course,” Arlo nodded, adjusting his glasses.
“Hmm… Meteorology? As in… weather prediction type stuff?” Jules playfully ventured.
“Not exactly. It's a branch of physics that studies the relationship between heat and energy— other things too, but I'm most fascinated in the transfer of energy that occurs in nature. So, today happens to be my favorite kind of day.” Almost on cue, thunder crackled and boomed, rattling the windows. Arlo grinned and continued, “You see, I track energy anomalies and there have been several strong, but sporadic readings in this area. I feel like I may have isolated a pattern, but it is too early to tell. I am here on vacation to hike, but also do research if the opportunity presents itself.”
They sat on the floor, facing one another. Arlo again leaned against his pack and Jules against hers. Despite their awkward start, they both now felt at ease. Without further prompting, Arlo began to explain thermodynamic theory to Jules. He was quite animated while describing his life's work.
Despite the fact Jules found Arlo to be highly intelligent and incredibly articulate, she understood very little of what he was telling her. However, what caught and held her attention was the manner in which Arlo spoke. Jules had never heard anything technical be expressed so eloquently and passionately. To her ear, his words sounded like scientific poetry— if such a thing existed. She felt like she could listen to him speak for hours.
She felt a hum growing between them as he spoke. It felt like a warm magnet, sensuously fluctuating and pulling at her center. Pulling her toward him in a most intimate manner.
Am I losing my mind, or is he feeling this too?
It was at this point that Jules became mesmerized by Arlo’s mouth. She became entranced by the way his lips moved; she couldn't help but stare. She eventually felt strangely jealous of each spoken word, each uttered syllable— if only she could be caressed by his tongue and lips like that…
Vivid images of his handsome face buried in her lap while both her hands grasped his hair came to her mind like a lightning strike. She blushed and looked away, but the image remained.
Okay, this is crazy. Stop, you perv.
But Jules did not stop. This time she welcomed the intrusive thoughts and embraced the resultant heat that flooded her body. Her mouth watered, her heart raced, and her breath rate increased. Her nipples hardened and eventually, the throbbing slickness between her thighs became impossible to ignore. She adjusted how she was sitting, but the unavoidable rubbing only made the ache worse.
The last few synapses in her brain that were not lust-infused attempted to reason with her:
Perhaps there is a scientific explanation. Is it somehow related to this storm? Would Arlo know? I mean, he is a scientist after all. But… what if this can't be explained?
And then suddenly, Jules didn't care anymore what the reason might be. She leaned toward him, the pull now too strong to resist. Outside, the storm intensified. Its insistence to be known was now in tandem with her need.
Arlo had stopped talking and looked deeply into her eyes. What she saw mirrored her own desire and fascination. It was obvious to Jules that he was indeed feeling the powerful attraction, too. He was as smitten as she and his arousal was as achingly present as hers. He could not hide it if he tried and he had no intention of doing such a thing. Heavy sheets of rain lashed at the window as they slowly leaned toward each other.
As lips parted and tongues met, the most spectacular sensation surged through them both. It was stronger and much more sensual than the zing from their earlier handshake. Whatever few reservations they were still holding to were now completely abandoned. They impatiently fumbled with and tore at one another's clothes with desperate hunger. They broke from kissing only when absolutely required.
Everywhere their bare skin touched, erotic electricity snapped and sizzled. Tendrils of supernatural longing raced and spiraled between and within them like currents. Their senses moved together as if they were celestial dance partners following ancient choreography only the two of them were ever destined to know.
Arlo's eager hands cradled Jules' bare cheeks and lifted her onto the countertop in one fluid movement. Her arms and legs reached to greedily encircle him as he moved toward her with animal intensity. The storm that ensued between the two rivaled the raw beauty of the summer storm raging around them.
The power that had been unleashed that day changed the landscape of all they thought they knew. As they continued to explore the principles of thermodynamics together, Arlo was confident he had at last located the source of the anomaly.
They learned everything that energy release between two humans was meant to be.
In theory, and in practice.
CONSTELLATIONS
I never thought
I would find
Love in your big brown eyes
Comfort in your touch
Strength in your words
Laughter in your jokes
I wonder if meeting you was
Inevitable
There is honor in the way you wear
Your pain
I see you
Beyond your flesh
Under all the hardy exterior
I see you
And boy you are the embodiment of
Just magnificent
Every scar every mole
Perfectly placed
Like stars aligned
Forming constellations
An Artist In Love
You write about them in your words
You recite them in deep poetry
You draw them in your world
In your lines and curves
They live in every brush stroke
Every dark shade representing
The endless dark days
The bright colors of burning ambers
Representing the blissful moments
What a beautiful life it was
Long drives and peaceful nights
My hands tracing your every outline
Me consumed by everything you
A blissful life that once was
Is now framed in antique wood
Living in the halls of dusty museum
That's only graced upon
Once in a blue moon.
Aunt.
She is her.
Mostly noun, given,
And she is an English teacher and shall berate me should she find this;
but she is her. Beyond grammatical repair, or rule of prose.
I do not care, for she is why I am me.
And if she does see this- you are her.
My aunt- a woman more mother then extended family,
a woman who's heart can break and bend.
A human so giving nobody notices until her efforts are missing,
a human so sweet the earth cried the very day she got sick.
I remember it too well. I remember about her more than myself, like a broken bone.
It aches now, her pain- my bone.
Her feelings are mine- only I feel them.
I feel them miles away, and do I feel them deeply.
I react how she cannot, due to her heart.
I react when she is not sure how to.
I bow my head at her anger, and revel in her praise.
If my grandmother is the queen, my aunt is her heir beyond birthright.
She spent the last of her serotonin on my laughter.
She spent the last of her smiles on us all.
And I gasp from the severity of the loss.
She is still with us- which is why I reflect her pain.
She is sick. But she is her.
Within my scar tissue exists her- within my flesh,
within whatever is good to me is given by her.
Love is her. She is love.
Growing dependence
“No.”
“I’m sorry, honey, but it will make life so much easier for both of us.”
“I already feel like you’ve become more mother than spouse with this sickness. Now this? I’m an adult, not a baby.”
“I know. It’s not a big deal.”
“Then you wear them!”
“I’m sure I will someday, especially if it keeps me from having to get up in the middle of the night, remove the bed linen, load the washing machine, remake the bed, change my pajamas and then try to go back to sleep.”
“Fine. I’ll get Dependence.”
“Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
“Nevermind.”
I heard of a wanderer once that found her way back home
I had someone once that was made of cosmic dust
rebelious, full of life
always falling down from a star
someone both strong and fragile ( but aren't we all like that? )
and the stars she would fall down from
were always constructed
of sharp-cut edges
( they sparkled beautifully
reflected in the moon but they caused wounds, they caused red tears
in between the fabric of her heart )
I felt someone once that was made of cosmic dust
they bled with moondrops
sugar and traumas held too tight,
they kept their innocence
even when the world
kept crushing their shell, their armour
I met someone once that
was made of cosmic dust,
of glitter and the biggest of hearts
a someone I tried to glue back together
after each of their falls
I took a needle and countless moon threads
to mend what was damaged
I helped, I soothed
but she was never mine to fix,
and after light years from that time
I have found that what needed
to be mended
was only for her to heal
I knew someone once
that was made of cosmic dust
and now they are a new born planet
that learned how to breathe
in their own beautiful cosmic depths
and as painful as it was
you becoming a planet on your own
without my help, without my moonlit soul
gave me the power to become a planet of my own
a cosmic dust that found her own home
a melody just for her
when you look at me
the tenderness of your stare
brings warmth to my wounds,
my fractured scars
it wraps them around in a blanket
( and they have been cold
for so long, you see )
you heal pieces of past traumas
without even knowing it, my dearest
the ones that have been with me
for years ( decades? yes, perhaps )
and you do it
just by the love that pulsates
out of that universe
that sometimes you let me see
out of those deep brown, amber hues
there is silence left in your temporary absence
a silence that roars in me
without making even a sound
but I hear it all around me
pressing at my walls
banging at my doors
shouting in whispers
murmuring in earthquakes,
a power field that rings only between my cells
my atoms
between the fibers of my skin
a beat of drums around me
heated, vibrated air
all caused by a red string
entangling both of our souls
I am forever missing
the warmth of your body, the feel of your lips
those arms wrapped around me
holding our home,
but I am now reminded
how it is to last without your voice
the look of your eyes
how it is to have only shreds of your presence,
just glimpses of you
I await you back, my dear
I left a light for you
_ _ _ _ _
and though I might sound melodramatic at times
a real poet
a heart on a careless sleeve,
a tidal wave crushing against the countless shores
of emotions and feels
and yet,
every word is true
every feeling
each sigh
every pulsating heartbeat that speaks of you