We take a break from one another; sometimes a week, sometimes a month.
I convince myself its for the best.
rheumatism in my hand or ankle one time;
Violent mood swings the next.
"It's better this way", I finally say.
"I feel fine"; I tell myself.
" - Lucid. I can think well without her. Who needs extra stimulation, any way? Not me. I'm high enough on life as is!"
Then events conspire to place her back in my hands; another cup of heaven's brew; Not that pool of depressing instant black; that tramp, she always becomes in the end; taking her with a colloid of indifference and self-loathing that no amount of sugar and milk would cure.
No, no. Temptation as usual comes in the shape of a fine black mistress; her slender arms, curvy wisps of vapor that move slowly and sensually in front of me, close enough for me to feel her aroma and sense warmth, rendering me powerless to resist her yet again.
The pains in my joints now a lie; my violent mood swings a fiction I dreamed up. Nothing is real except her.
Now, all forgiven, I once again fall; sipping and slipping, down down into a world where every color is brighter, every sound clearer and more beautiful, and all the while, I'm thinking,
"O you bitter-sweet piping hot brew, Ye bringer of death and deception
...Where have you been my whole life?"
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