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But, she comes again.
This time, she hugs me.
I enjoy the feel of her chest on mine as she runs her hands over my back.
Gripping me when we kiss.
Again, without a word, she leaves.
Days, weeks, maybe months pass.
My tounge reminds me of her mouth.
My hands, the feel of her back.
And just before I give up hope, she comes.
We embrace, kiss, grab, caress.
Each silently confiding in the other.
Telling with their body how much they've been missed.
But the place is wrong, the time not right.
So we slow.
Unwillingly letting go of all but our hands.
Still pressing ourself to the other.
I say goodbye, this time I leave.
Another day, another month, another year.
Time has no meaning to me.
My lover gone, I sit and pound my fists on the Imaginary Wall.
But she does not come.
More time, more fists, more pain, more tears.
I make up my mind and hurriedly leave.
I don't know where I went, nor how I got there.
The journey to some mystic place.
I knew, prayed I would find her there.
And I did.
Across the beach, I see her.
Lazily, she stares into the ocean, unaware of me.
So slowly I approach.
As I stand behind her, my hands move.
Softly caressing the back in front of me.
She does not move, knowing my touch so well.
Instead, her hands meet mine at her waist.
Pulling me to her.
Wrapping my arms about her like a sash.
The scent of fresh strawberries on her hair.
Silence, Warmth, Love.
Then she lets go, I allow my arms to fall.
Returning to me once more, she turns and smiles.
Taking my hand, slowly pointing to her cottage, she giggles.
Her eyes shine, she blinks, winks.
I smile, we kiss.
She giggles more and pulls away, turning toward our goal.
And hand in hand, we run.
Joyful at this chance, we run with all our passion.
Longing to quench our mutual desires, we run.
We run.
The door opens.
Hearts pounding, we burst in.
She moves first, lightly falling onto the bed.
Pulling me down on top of her.
We lie there, gently kissing, lovingly caressing.
Every move move of a tounge, every brush of a finger igniting the other's passion.
Our mutual burning grows.
Consuming our bodies in heat until we have no choice but to remove our clothes.
So we stand.
Kissing, we undress each other.
Peeling away our fears and insecurities.
Slowly all thoughts of the outside world fall to the floor.
It's just us, just now, just this.
We kiss.
Longingly, we lay down.
The soft furls of the bed rise again.
Together, we surrender to our passions.
Night, day, somewhere in between.
We are trapped, one heart, one soul.
Muse and poet, fused into one.
Words are spoken, screamed.
Finally giving way to more animal tones.
Warmth, heat, burning.
Exitement, pleasure, ecstacy.
Oh, prolonged ecstacy...
Then quiet.
Calm.
Peace.
Sleep.
So I sleep, our sweet embrace has ended.
My energys are spent, my mind empty, I do not dream.
But she, waking with the morning sun, must go.
Leaving me with just my pencil, paper, and written words, she departs without a sound.
Later, I awake and read what we have made.
Great insight and passion from mere words.
But it is not the same, some fragments missing.
Maybe it's the feel of her skin on mine.
Or the taste of her lips, the smell of her hair.
Maybe the love her look inspires.
Whatever is is, it's gone.
The words are just rememberances.
Reminders of that better time.
But they are my words, written with my hand.
Inspired by her.
And so, I wander through this world,
Always wanting of something more.
Always wishing to return to that time.
My memmory may fade, but not my goal.
I search for her everywhere.
My inspiration, my muse, my love.
And perchance, on some distant shore, we will meet again.
Her eyes will fill with that special glow.
She'll kiss me lightly, just the way she always did.
We'll hold hands at sunset, watching the water devour the light.
There with her, I will write once more.