Murky: Beyond Terms of Love

Source. Pexels.

by LJ Frank 



Murky! That was the word applied by my specialist, a doctor trained in such matters of clarity and blurriness. I am not sure if there was a nuance to the word. It felt, how shall I say… in the shadows. 

I was at risk at being out of focus to others and to myself.

Things did seem to be unclear which also included terms of love, whether higher, lower or whatever.  Even the telltale expressions in the public room with its icons delineating gender intent, words were written on the wall in crayon – nebulous, cloudy, foggy, misty, hazy, blurry, distorted, vague, obscure, and enigmatic.

I recall smiling and squinting at another client in the waiting area of the doctor’s office, after getting my mind dilated with the stuff for medicinal purposes. It was both under and over the counter depending on where one lived. I waited and joined her mystical presence after her visit.

The chemistry was provocative and instantaneous. We were two, yet like one.

Though we were both a blur, we now were both squinting and smiling. We decided to make love outside the boundaries and in such terms as higher, normative, and lower. We weren’t sure what that meant. There was an acronym for it and for all we knew it may have been listed on the NASDAQ. But who really knows for sure except the insider? And we were not insiders.

We were outside not inside.

We found ourselves in a lush, sensually fragrant garden. It felt lustful, sensuous, carefree, and yes, seductively lewd. Everything we did was wet and slippery. We suspect part of it was because of the rain.

The passion was  exquisitely blurred and beyond any equation or definition.