She is there, in my room, waiting. Silent as I close the door, turn out the light, turn out the world.
I feel her presence behind, reaching to touch my clavicle, soothe vagal impulse to turn. I feel her hand, supple, strong, heating through in contact, healing in that sacred touch fortified with love.
We kiss, we melt, we swirl like cotton candy, sweet, sticky, surreal. We touch into solidity to feel, each exquisite synapse response a remembrance of permeability. We taste. There are no words.
I know I said (I prayed):
To be adored beyond embarrassment
To be she who can do no wrong, because beloved
To be gifted accurate reflective critique
as superlative reviews, with just a tweak suggested
To fall securely into open arms and heart
expecting only me
Each blessed day to start
gazing into shining eyes that see so deeply,
so wisely, my precious wondrous being
I have never had from lovers,
brothers, Mom or Dad
what I have taught myself severely
I can never have
Too bad. So sad. Can't let fantasy
keep me from my daily dance with debt.
Dreaming freely receivng
never to be met.
We meet secretly, in places that can't be mapped or tethered. She embraces me in bursts of rapid movement, seductively slowed from motion to subtle traces of desire.
I am emotively charged ecstasy, pulsing electrically beyond space/time. She is imaginal fluid gently shaping eternity. We are ouroboros, ancient fantasy, modern physics.
This is the charm I need to cast the spell, to open the fortress, to open my eyes adoring sensation. I become energy as she feeds me the ambrosia of her essence. I become beloved.