230907 - Her

When I close my eyes all I see is her smile. Her eyes - her face… her presence. Somehow I know that it’s not a projection. She’s there with me. Tracing the contours of her body with my fingers, listening to how it, how she, responds. Accepting the fear, the worried thoughts that I don’t know what I’m doing. Letting that be, my fingers do. Every second discovering more of her. Her sensitivity. Her bimples, bumps, scratches. All of it unimaginably beautiful. Knowing that she hears me. Learning to trust this language, too. It’s soft, gentle. Not more than a murmur; to the uninitiated easily mistaken for a light breeze. Maybe one day I will learn to scream in this language. God knows I want to. Feeling my hands, my body, growing bolder by the minute. Enamored with her, drunk on her sweet nectar - her very essence. Her hands, too. Every touch bringing shivers down my spine. There’s fear there, too. Fear of letting myself go. Fear of losing myself in her. But that, too, is fading. Replaced by a want, a want to give it time. To appeciate all of it. To let myself feel her, slowly. And I would lie if I didn’t admit the other part. Enjoyment in teasing. In the knowledge that she feels it, too. I can hear it, beyond words. Her body tells me a story of its own. And her lips - her mouth. Her breath on my neck. Then I feel a fire igniting. Not yet ready to let it burn fully, its suppression stemming from an otherwordly strength. But that’s a lie. It’s not suppression. And it’s not otherwordly. It’s letting go. It’s MY strength. It’s hers, too. A natural agreement. Something stemming from that beautiful thing - a deep trust. Whatever happens, it will all be OK.