Gnawing

Is it erotic? This erodere, cobbled path worn by the ones who came before? A need to fulfill the most basic instincts of the body as life lies in balance, ebb and flow, wax and wane. I need you to need me to want to die this way, it’s unbecoming to pretend otherwise. Is it not so? Eros, Aphrodite’s son by whomever….unfulfilled love, lust. He was a god born from Chaos prior to the Greek definition, more of a Titan. I find he better suits my mood in this older belief. Do you find it as strange as I that eros is the first letters of erosion? Ex-rodere in Latin, “away, gnaws”, hence erodere, sum erosiunem. A gnawing away. Love of physical beauty. It gnaws at us all, does it not? I think so, like sand in the gears, a lump in your mattress. The alarm clock of your neighbors’ that always goes off 30 minutes before yours, waking you in anger, then continues to go on, ( beep, beep, beep, beep….). Weed eaters at 7 am on a Saturday, the person in the grocery paying with all small coins and coupons. The obnoxious and overly talkative co-worker in your ear on a Monday after too much time spent losing yourself over the weekend. Forgetting to remember that thing you were supposed to do. It erodes us all. As I gnaw at you, as you are always under the lids of my eyes, I cannot close them. So let us come together and begin the process. We are already driving each other mad. Sea and shore, wind and sand, earth and moon, ebb and flow, wax and wane, a gnawing away. Let us take what pleasure we can before there is nothing left to hold. For life gnaws at everything, and death is always picking up the crumbs. Eros, bring her to me. That I may eat my fill, nibble by nibble, and in the eating, we may find some moment of peace.