Sunday, November 27, 2016

Is that it

    I hope in your dreams
    that he loves your eyes
    like I did...
                      ....just for a while
                                          ------ Is that it, my friend  by Damien Rice

    I am lost in your laughter, forever seduced by the way your body moves as you laugh. Sitting across from you on our back-porch in this bright sunlit late afternoon I have brought you roses for your birthday. And your favorite chocolates. I am keeping the main gift for later. As the waves from the sea off our beach house serenade us, I tell you that after our friends have all left this evening I would be yours for the night, that you could ask of me to make all your secret fantasies come true. I cannot help but laugh along with you as I listen to you tell me what you will have me do. The brightness of your eyes, the curves of your lips as your words paint pictures of the night to come, the call of your skin to mine, the desperate hunger in my desire to taste your entire body, an all too familiar mix of raw addictions I have long struggled to come to terms with.

      I pull you gently by your hands off your chair and into my lap. Your back to me, as I embrace your body tightly into mine I whisper into your ears, "Did I tell you, my love?"
     You tilt your head back to kiss my chin, and wait for me. I smile into your eyes, and say, "Did I tell you how restless my heart feels without you?" You angle your head further back to offer me your lips and I envelop them in mine.

     When the spray from the waves at high-tide lapping up the beach wakes me up, it is night. As the surroundings seep slowly into my consciousness, the expanse of the sea looms larger than usual in the low moonlight. I look back at the house. It is unlit and dark. I silently voice "Happy Birthday, my love," and get up to walk back to the house.

     As I open the screen door I almost miss seeing the roses laying at the threshold to the house. 

No comments:

Post a Comment