Tell Me More

I remember kissing you,

Rolling over and pulling your body into mine

Inhaling the musky, earthy scent of you.

Somehow, I worked up the courage to

Look into your eyes and you,

Lovely you,

Gazed back, unflinching, unmoving.

Tentatively, I ran my fingers through your hair,

I touched each strand,  and let them fall through,

Weave themselves around my fingers and watched

In wonder as your eyes drifted slowly closed,

Contented.

Your smile sent warmth directly to my soul

I lived to see that smile tug at the corners of  your mouth,

Watched as your lips ordered me to kiss them,

Swooned while your eyes begged me to love them,

Wrapping my arms around your body

I buried my face in your neck and felt

You open to me, welcome me.

You spoke to me in the language of my heart

A language I had thought only I understood

But that first night, I looked into your eyes and

From the moment our lips touched

You spoke to me, fluent and clear,

Whispered your understanding,

And I heard my heart say,

Tell me more.

On Drinking After Midnight

She listens to burned cds in her car
they sound like old records
Ella sings tales of her heart
voice crackling and sizzling
begging my soul to recall Audre’s days
of scratchy records and smooth
cigarette smoke curling into air
naked bodies dampened with
sweat and loving, splayed exhausted across thinly cushioned day-beds

Windows crack and a cloud of knowing
hovers around us
we welcome it into our lungs
with deep intakes of breath
tongues loosened with liquor
we talk of the ways we’ve
lived out our days
reflect on the many
roads our walks have taken

We are moving
fast and impassioned
fire in our hearts inflaming our path
cigarettes clutched between our fingers smoke trails behind us
we don’t know where we are heading
until we do, and we are sitting
on a bar stool

Her eyes wide, she explains
a piece of her soul
leaning into her tale, hands
become her dancers moving and
interpreting, punctuating her points

I get lost when I talk to her
access that place in my mind
reserved for meditating, paper and pen
I pluck out pieces of myself and
spill them at her feet

Knowing that although she may not
know their meaning
she understands the part of my
mind I am speaking from
sees the hard fought wars and
Honors them, welcomes them

Accepts them as my truth.

Muse

I am happy today. Why you ask? Because I held a woman in my arms last night. I held her close and we let our feet be carried by music pulsing through our bodies. My mouth grazed skin darker than my own; dark and warm and smooth like coffee on a bright summers’ morning. She tasted of fire and flesh and freedom. I wrapped her in my arms and felt whole again. I felt like a woman again. I found something of myself that I’d forgotten I’d lost – my passion.

Fantasy

I read about the language of the stars, and you creep into my mind.

Before I can understand what my body is doing, warmth spreads throughout my form.

Humming, tingling, floating.

My eyes drift shut, lids containing worlds beneath them.  The world which I enter holds a version of you that desires me.

This you, sighs when my hand rests upon your face, rush of air pushed from your lungs which you were not even aware you had collected.

This you missed me as much as the deepest part of my soul missed you.  In this world I am mad for you, and you for me.

I touch your face and you press it against my palm.

When our lips meet, it is for the first time, and oh ! how exquisite they feel! How warm and soft and right.

We have been apart too long and our bodies tell us so. 

I fall into you and happily, you to me, otherwise I fear we may have toppled over.

But the meeting of our lips was nothing like the meeting of our thighs.

Our hands diving to deep, wet, musky spaces, fingers splaying and pressing and touching and exploring.

How have we never known one another this way ?  This is certainly what bliss feels like.

At once light, floating, grounded, separate, whole, present.

Our fingers are travelers now, explorers.  They delve into spaces I have only dreamt about in the dark corners of my wanting. 

Here they are merged with you, seeking out the secrets of your flesh, your soul.  Wanting to know you deeply, wholly.

My arm wraps itself about your waist and cups your thigh, pulling you to me, begging you to let me go deeper, know you longer.

I feel your body shudder, arch itself impossibly further into me, and I know your secret.  I reached inside of you and was granted access to your soul.

It is upon these walls that your secret is written.  My fingers memorize every word, before they reluctantly make their journey home.

I open my eyes.

Only a fantasy. Single tear slips from my eye.  I remember why the gates to my heart are so securely shut.

I turn my attention back to the stars. Too many nights end this way.

Elation

I am not sure how we got here.  I am not sure where we will go after this.  There is no turning back.  I am certain of nothing.

Nothing except real or imagined, I never want this moment to end.  The beautiful culmination of all of our sorrows, our struggles, our laughter, our experience.

Feeling, finally feeling the softness of your flesh merged with my own. The hot wetness of your sex pressed, wanting, against my knee.  Rocking gently – a quiet request which I cannot deny. 

My hands are no fools.  They are not wild as with previous lovers, but slow.  Slow and cautious.  Moving up and down your body, cataloging every dip, every curve, freckle and mark.

These hands are my eyes.  Cupping and stroking; leading the way for my mouth to follow.  Tasting every inch of your flesh. 

Does your right elbow taste differently than your left ?  These are the things I must discover. Curiosity must be satisfied. 

I will know you.

My mouth is impatient.  It does not want to wait for my hands, to reach its treasure. 

It follows the trail of sweat, finding its way to your swollen, wet, lips.  I kiss them softly.  Coaxing them open with the promise of my tongue.

Running it from the base of your sex to the top, stopping just below the clitoris.  Gently, ever so gently, I repeat.  Each time, with a bit more force, pressing my tongue into you.  I taste the sweet tang of you.  I am consumed.

It is all that I can do to keep myself composed.  How sweetly you moan with my head between your thighs.  How seductively your body moves, instructs, guides. 

I am your student.  Show me, mold me, teach me.

Your hand clutches the back of my head, pulling me in, deeper, deeper.  My tongue is ravenous.  I feel I am drinking from holy waters. 

Warmth pools between my legs, throaty cry escapes my lips, slipping inside of you.  An invitation to join my coming, which you graciously accept – elation.