random brain droppings

Do you remember, long ago, when you were young and in love? Raging lust, perhaps?

On a peaceful morning, at the first light of dawn, you would awaken gently, feel your sweetheart beautiful lover next you.  One lazy hand would reach for them, gently, quietly, not to wake, but simple fondle gently.  

Your hand would discover their butt cheek, warm, soft, inviting. Your palm and fingers molding to that small round warm flesh.  Your other hand, jealous at being ignored, slowly moved to find the untouched pair and also molded, gently, softly, to cradle that source of comfort. 

With no intention to go beyond that moment of sweet double handed contact, you’d lie there, content, as the light slowly grew in the room around you as if responding to simple joy of gently cupping your partner’s rearward moons.

Alas, my youth is long gone.  Gentle mornings in the early dawn long lost to me now.  We sleep in separate beds in separate rooms.  One of us snores, loudly.  One of us exudes a horrible noxious gas from twist that once young, now flabby – no longer named booty – behind.

Both are me, I am told. 

Now I wake, fumble for my robe, my glasses, struggle to seek the floor.

A distant memory of morning routines inside a once brilliant brain calls out for coffee, toothbrush, slippers … all still missing in the morning fog.

Before all else, it seems, confused, lost, befuddled by daylight, I must search for my own ass with both hands.