Taming the Wild, in Me

I peeled down to my tank top, put on a pair of shorts, and stretched out on the massage mat, and wiggled my bare toes. 
The massage therapist pressed his hands into the small of my back. I felt my muscles relax. 

I have spent the equivalent of years of my life wishing for massages, and I’d hit pay dirt. A friend was training to become a Massage Therapist and he needed 500 hours of coursework and I was his subject. He was giving me a free 90 minute massage.  

If I had a weekly massage, I believed maybe my torso would grow supple, my legs long and nimble. But first I had to hush my thoughts, and not think about anything. 

His fingers moved up and down my leg. I let my brain float without any barriers. Ravens flew through my mind, and a soothing feeling spread over me like sun-warmed rainwater floating down my neck and shoulders and glided over me like feather-down wings. 

Then suddenly his cat hopped on top of me and was extremely affectionate; he kneaded down on my lower back, purred, his whole body rumbled with cat pleasure. Then the cat leaped off of me. I let out a giggle and then my tense body relaxed even more. My head relaxed, my neck and down to my chest and into the lines and curves of my abdomen. 

Outside the streetlights came on. From somewhere in the distance a radio played a Mexican polka. I felt all the parts of my body as if I’d never before knew they were all there at the same time. The air grew blue dark, and a passing car reflected the corner streetlight outside. 

I lay mindless and eternal, wondering how to gain my senses enough to drive home.