redwinterroses

I wait for you in the twilight between the shadow and the soul. Fiery anticipation diffuses into the strange newness of each others flesh. Coming to rest in the electric ambiance of your sleek body, I felt the current of desire pull and pull through me. Your hand cups the long smooth muscle of my back. My heart presses against my lungs, and I forget that I am not breathing. When our mouths touch at last, they linger almost touching. I am held in the soft orange glow of the setting sun shining in your eyes, and you breathe me in. The light reflects each sculpted delicate muscle, the down of your hair, the hollow of your throat. We are drawn into a heavy spiral, deeper and deeper into the thick warm translucence where mind and body dissolve, where we see with our tongues and taste with our fingers. Your strong and simple hands divine the overwhelming want hiding in the dark fathoms of a secret heart. A wild, cultivated love curls around long alabaster limbs and entangles itself in our passion, overflowing in open wet kisses on the soft of your belly, and arcing up to the blush of your breast. Our hands trace the hills and valleys, trailing rivulets of spindrift, alluring and hot. My skin whispers, begs. You lick along and up the sweet, salt seam of my spine, my shoulders, my neck, and down the fine column of ribs to the fitted handle pelvic bones afford. The evening lowers your eyes across the vision of us, still touching, our shadowy pattern flickering on the stoical wall. I kiss your eyelids, your cheeks, your chin, before returning to brush the rose of your mouth. You linger on my lips, on my skin. Your body is smooth as stones in the water, your kisses are clusters of sweet fruit, fresh with dew. My mouth fills with the taste of you, enveloped in long satiating strokes of your tongue. Sweat winds slowly down burning flesh in delightful teasing ribbons. We are held still in the ache of our drumming pulse, a numbing joy I had thought I would have to die to reach. Sleep comes to our bodies, entwined, whispering words of love. But something remembered (the promise of morning?) brings a new thrill of excitement to my pounding heart. So I lie awake overcome, and in love, because of the deep insatiable need caused by the curve of your hip.