sunday afternoon

the rainbow serpent snaked it's way across the walls and ceiling.

i wasn't that surprised.

when it entered the fireplace--  which was electric, and decorative, and, anyway, not a water hole--  i was somewhat more surprised;  but the real tension came with the wondering:  where would it pop up next.  i began to imagine it shooting up the chimney, arching through the sky, crashing back through the door, the roof.  would it want to do me harm?  it hadn't seemed dangerous on the walls, but, now that it was out of sight, it frightened me, a little.  was it come to tell me something, create something?  was it totally oblivious to me?

i'd never seen it before.

so, i'm watching the wall above the electric fire because i can picture the rainbow serpent doubling back, somehow, plunging out of the wall, headed right at me.  a large parrot flies by and distracts me.

when i look up the curving wall has become a waterfall.  the crashing water dissolves to mist as it hits the floor.

oh, i need to check my crock pot.

i go to the kitchen.  i stir my crock pot.  a small brown woman walks up to me.  she looks vaguely like that parrot with her beak-like nose and feather collar.

what is that you're making?

i'm not really sure yet, i start to say.  it's the national dish of my country, i tell her.  really it's not quite.  i am making a thick stew-like dish that i'm tempted to call a curry with kasha and fava beans.  the spices are garlic, turmeric, spanish smoked paprika, cumin seed, and fennel seed.  it has a vaguely porridge or gruel texture, which isn't quite right.  the fava beans are not breaking down as quickly as i expected.

suddenly, right there in the kitchen, i get a throb.  my interest has shifted.  now i want sex, now.

i walk back into the living room.  you are sprawled naked on a gratuitous stack of pillows on a flat rock near the base of the waterfall.  you are somewhat reclining against a stack of pillows, almost sitting up.  i guess i'm wearing what i'm wearing, minus the underwear i just pulled off, and by the time i get there i guess you are hard because i don't pay attention to any of that.  what i want, what i notice is mounting you.  feeling your cock against front inner wall of my snatch.  my head falls back.  don't move around a bunch, i say, we can do mystical mutual whatever in a minute, right now, right now i need to wickedly use your man parts for my dire need.

fine, you say, pulling my shirt over my head.

a flying fish jumps out of the water and attaches itself to my right nipple.  not to be outdone, you squeeze the left.

the fish thing is a little weird, you say.

just roll with it, i shoot back, slowing my pace and deliberately, rhythmically, squeezing you.

thanks fish, but you better move now or else you're likely to be crushed.

fish detaches, salutes with his wing fin, and jumps back into the water.

before you expect anything, i roll down onto your chest like a wave cresting the force of the oscillation washing into a kiss.  i've been concerned about the quality of kiss i can manage.  and i guess it might be our first, so it's important, but i shouldn't have worried.  it was gentle as foam in a tsunami.

i. love. you.   i say, as i feel the gate swing open.