Inescapable

I turn to look at you. It is late evening and you are laying next to me in an adjacent beach chair. You are on your side facing me, and I hold your gaze, searching your eyes. When you look away with a barely audible sigh, I reach with my hand to caress your dark hair back gently from your face. In the diffuse evening light, your skin is luminescent. My eyes trace down your neck, lingering on your collarbones and then down to your breasts barely covered by the open translucent white silk shirt you are wearing. I feel the moist gentle pull as you turn your face slightly to take my index finger into your mouth. I watch the curve of your lips as you suck on my finger, your eyes locking onto mine with a desire at once familiar and inescapable. I reach out with my other hand and pull you on top of me.

The waves are now loud enough that I can no longer keep them out of mind. The moonlit churn of the waves washes up to just a few feet away from my feet. In the very far horizon out on the sea, I can make out the shape of what must be a large ship. The breeze has picked up a bit, though it is still very warm and comforting. I can hear some faint voices and laughter every so often but their owners must be quite distant. There are no clouds in the sky and in the half-moon the stars are bright and feel close. It is a beautiful night, but I cannot remember how I came to be there on that beach.

Would you?

I try and steady the row boat as you step into it and then taking your hand guide you to sit across from me on the passenger side. We had found the boat nestled in among the lotus leaves and tall gangly yellow flowers by the grassy edge of the small island with the temple. The turquoise water is brilliantly lit by the dying sun, and you are delighted by the koi fish that swim in the clear water around the boat. I can see the clumps of tall bamboo on the little island behind you swaying gently in the breeze. The butterflies we had disturbed in walking down to the boat flit about us. I smile into your eyes and pick up the oars to set us off into the water.

Our surroundings are so beautiful that we forget to talk for a while. I see a pink flowering cherry blossom tree growing out of a rocky arch abutting a waterfall and steer the boat towards it.

"If you could change the way I feel about our past, would you?," you ask.

I look at your face silently letting the boat glide past the waterfall. You look so beautiful, sitting there across from me, your dress gathered under your legs. I resist the primal urge to hold you in my arms.

"Did I tell you?," I think silently to myself, "That I have always loved you."

"Would you?," you ask again.