Luke Rawlings

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My Secret Lover

On Christmas day, I saw my secret lover, and I shared some greens with him. I kissed him on his nose and gave him a giant hug, the kind that hurts and feels great at the same time. We talked bones and I told him about my weekend trips north to try and catch the lights in the sky, the ones that glow and look like magic. Then I came home and sketched him a few times, and I promised him a painting.

You start painting one dog, and you have to paint another, and I have to get my secret lover’s painting just right. To do that, I know I have to practice. So I went on a hike and met this lady, who came out from behind some beautiful green foliage. She followed me for a while along with her human, a stranger who offered me half a snickers bar after he thanked me for giving her the rest of my banana, and told me he was happy I didn’t get bitten.

I forget my manners often when I meet these beautiful animals and just jump right in their lives and give hugs. Nothing about her read “I’m going to attack you.” We just did the simple exchange of “I like you and here’s a hug and a smooch. Want some banana?” I had to paint her, and I tried to recall how she and I met in poetry-form on my drive home, because I can’t wait to share it with my secret lover: “Saw some eyes coming out of the green, the most beautiful brown I think I’ve seen…” or something like that.

I need to take care of myself this summer and be, in the style of 2020-speech, as unapologetic AF about it. I’m burned out on teaching, and I love love love teaching. But I’m no good if I can’t release this art from inside my body, the kind of work I was born to do. So no teaching this upcoming summer for me. Some other job will do just fine so I can barely pay rent but focus on art like it’s a full time job, and meet more lovers like this beautiful soul.