Longing ..

      You wrote.  Finally, another chance to walk with you for a bit.  I can’t say I read your thoughts to be informed .. not really.  Although you express yourself well and your thoughts are clearly your own.  I’m entertained by you.  Your picture is flashed fresh on the  screen of my mind’s eye and as my own gallop along your lighted trail, you read it to me. You read it to me, because I want you .. and I tease myself with you.  Even in your furious writings .. those frustrated, hopeless ramblings .. I make sure you give me your "Ya like me?" smile, at some point.   

      Your daily hauntings and happennings that you write about .. almost mundanely .. are moments my nervous system reacts like its major electric cord is snapping and spitting sparks, as it swings freely on the damp floor of the image center in my brain.  It only takes your lament of a need going unfulfilled for my cables to be repaired, up and running.  I race to you .. cuddle and kiss you .. turning your ranting rage into passion and peace.  It only happens on THIS end.  You continue to write uneffected.  However, my dream goes on and grows even more intensely.

     You have a life, defined by you .. as I do.   But, when I have an opportunity to share a slice of YOUR pie, it’s not unlike a date for me.  We’re alone.  Neither of us are looking over our shoulder,  preparing to swallow paper to hide our secrets!  "OMG, here they come!!"  No .. and it’s not always ripping clothing off and rising lava kisses, either.   Although, you were incredibly sexy.  It was something else, as you read your words.

     You were open and warm, longing and luscious.  I wanted to lie with you .. entangled, but nose to nose.  I wanted to stroke you and look into your eyes and feel their message as you expressd yourself.  Just be with you, I suppose.  Just lie there and comfort you.  I wanted to ignore my yearnings and be the weight beside you that made you roll too close to me at times ..  make you  press your hands against me to shift back to your place before me, to go to your next point.  All the while, glazing your soft curves with a tender palm .. combing fingertips.  Pillow talk is a sweet cake.

     Your words and mood have much to do with the entertainment I give myself.  I know you are contained in a bug jar of a life .. an eco-system that’s yours alone.  But, once you step from your bath and draw a fluffy towel to your precious wet wonders, I’ll spy the droplets that slip along the back of your legs and capture them at some point on their journey and drag them back from where they came, adorningly.  You won’t even know I was there.