Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
Writing for five minutes.
A sort of writing flash mob.
I bend low, nuzzling cheek and ear, drinking in the smell of boy and soap. It is warm in the crook of his neck. And his arms, they circle round and round my neck. And this child, he won't let go. Not tonight, at least. Or tomorrow. Or even the day after that. This nightly ritual, this silent clamoring, this desperate appeal...it is, at once, constant and fleeting. Everything in him cries out for me to stay.here.always.
And I should listen.
Because there will come a day when his cheek will be coarse and his smell will slant towards manhood. And his arms, they will lengthen and his reach, it will widen. And that wish for me to stay will cool in the wake of shifting winds.
So, for now, tonight, I will stay.
And as I nestle into the folds of his fleeting boyish charms I find my soul has a clamoring all its own.
"Stay joined to me, and I will stay joined to you."
John 15:4 (CEV)