#WednesdayFreeWrite – TREE
TREE
“I am the Lorax
I speak for the tree.”
“That’s not what he says,”
and she laughs
and she’s light
for half a beat of a second.
“Trees,”
she even smiles
“plural,”
and unlike other times
she doesn’t falter
when the word crosses her lips.
Instead she bites her pencil
before pointing it at me
and shakes her head
as I sit at my laptop
and sip my coffee
and spill my words on the page.
And for an instant
it almost seems as if trees
and branches
and leaves
don’t evoke horror
and pain
and loss.
I stare at my screen
and wonder when the breakdown will occur
how long will it take
for the hurt
and gnashing
and anger,
as I recall a night
not long ago
full of trepidation
and hope
and love.
A quiet night of exploration.
“I have a tree,”
she had whispered and cried
then pushed my hand away,
“it starts under my breast
and grows up my side
and creeps along my back.
It’s full of thick branches
knotted and gnarled
with black poisonous leaves.
Disgusting and unlovable.”
I had kissed her tears
the salt mingling with the bitter of my shock
as her fingers tangled in my hair
and skimmed my throat
and grazed my breasts
while she sobbed
her truths
of devastating loss
erecting a wall between us
daring me to scale its heights.
But she didn’t know
I lived for a good fight
especially one of the life-altering vein
so when she kept me at bay
and tried to hide her tree
I stepped around her barriers
and snaked my fingers under her shirt
and up her back
teasing the thick trunk
of knot and gnarl
my lips uncovering their story
of burn and char
making a new one
of trust
and patience
and care.
My mouth devoured the poison and black
of those leaves
and my love left them
fresh
and new
and green
My tongue traced those branches
around her breast
and over her nipple
beaded with desire
throbbing with lust
scarred
and angry
and red,
loving what she believed to be unlovable.
That was then
this was now
I waited for her breakdown
her pain
and anger
to join us this night
but after minutes of her long silence
and curious smirk
I felt her heat up my back
her arms around my waist
and the kiss of her lips on the shell of my ear
as she smiled
and held me close.
“You are the Lorax
and you speak for my tree.
Hold me close
trace my branches
kiss my leaves,”
she sighed,
“rescue me.”
My #WednesdayFreeWrite series is based on what I write during the 10 minutes allotted my writing group’s Wednesday Prompt. As always, these pieces are works of fiction, erupting from my incredibly over-active imagination. They are unedited and unscripted – so please be patient with the less-than-perfect and the not-quite-ready – super loose and probably my favorite ten minutes of the week. They’re perfect in their imperfections and I hope you enjoy.
