Passion, Joy, Desire... Let it Overflow

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excerpt from a story that won't ever be finished:

The bar was everything I could’ve expected. More than anything, it was smoky and purple. It was dim enough that I couldn’t know where the smoke or the conversations were coming from. But music and words draped every corner. Most everyone had walked ahead of Kristen and me. And as we slalomed past tables, we’d find each other in the dark, her shoulders bumping into my sternum and ribs. Picking up on the folly, I broke the touch barrier for a second time when I guided her through our next obstacle from the small of her back. My palm covered nearly every open spot on her. And I know she looked up at me as I touched her. Confusion and instinct were both responsible for how my hand slid just an inch or two down to her hip. I couldn’t help but think to myself that, at some point, I must’ve written a wrong answer into the crossword.
 
'Failing and Flying' by Jack Gilbert:

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
said it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better. But anything
worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
on the other side of that. Listened to her
while we ate lunch. How can they say
the marriage failed? Like the people who
came back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of his triumph.
 
'Failing and Flying' by Jack Gilbert:

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
said it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better. But anything
worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
on the other side of that. Listened to her
while we ate lunch. How can they say
the marriage failed? Like the people who
came back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of his triumph.

I really like this... Really speaks to me.
 
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