Saturday, April 9, 2011

Skin.

Skin.

The darkness of night comes and wakes my body to find me still around him inside wanting more. In the cool air of the dark room lives the creature of silence that waits for our sounds. In this moment we’re still continuing in, there’s the absence of depth and boundaries to the world.

The folds of the sheets can not separate our interlocking forms. Both of his arms are wrapped securely around my reclining waist as he lifts my left leg back to meet him for another dance. Buried deep between our legs a slow fire rises from the ash once again. We are the very pieces of a human puzzle connecting in a perfect moving union. There’s no end or beginning with our gradual movements that escalate from slumber to full awakening.

Waking fingers begin their tingling dance across our bareness. The weight of his fingers lessens as they dance on the bare flesh of my left hip bone. Beneath their touch my skin responds with tiny shocks of electrical current shooting to the tips of both of my feet.

The gooseflesh climbs from the top of my arms down to the base of my calves when he gently exhales a breath of air against the back of my neck. The warmth of my open palm caresses the small of his back and the base of spine shocks with reaction to my touch. My warm lips find a home upon his wandering lips that seek solace in their momentary embrace.

With every kiss we’re climbing toward the release of our flesh. Touches send shockwaves of electrical currents within our union, until the moment arrives and subsides to leave us locked into placed once more in the darkness of night masked in the sheets surrounded by the sounds of silence.

300. Skin is skin in the dark. And it’s only with you for a lifetime. What’s the minimum of life? There is no minimum. And from what I gather a skeleton isn’t going to much enjoy what happens in the dark quite the same as a living person. What say you? Enjoy. kisses. m.

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