Friday, July 20, 2018

friday afternoon

I think about my old Jewish dad and his last girlfriend, Barbara. How she was a Mexican single mother many years younger than him. How he bought her pink gold jewelry at Costco and saved the receipts. How she called him her man and her amor.

I think about them laying in each other's arms in a hotel room in a beach resort in Cabo smelling like saltwater. I think about him as I lay with my beautiful girlfriend in my arms. How she and I caress and laugh and fuel a feeling of euphoria with our young strong bodies. I think about how grateful he was, to have that young love in his life one more time.

How they'd share a Subway sub. She was a social worker for the County and he was a mind doctor. How he kept trying to learn Spanish. And she showed him her favorite places in Oxnard where they both worked.

I think about his hairy chest when my girlfriend is up against my own hairy chest. And we are free from pain. The way our bodies move we become free from pain.

This roving pain.