March 15, 2010
Just An Old Refrain
Years ago
we began an affair
which turned into so much more than a simple series of trysts
we never imagined
we were beginning a journey
When our lips touch
each one's soft, satiny skin lingering against the other's
we're overwhelmed by sensation and elation,
emotion,
devotion.
I stare deep into your eyes,
run my hand against the apple of your cheek,
your mahagony skin smooth against my fingers.
Loving you is not easy.
It's made up of moments of bliss and frustration,
of frantic and infrequent time spent basking in each other's warmth,
juxtaposed with hours, days, weeks
of waiting and
waiting.
Oh you!
You bohemian,
train-rider,
saw-player,
serenader,
with a heart of gold and a
body my hands can't stay away from --
that v at your pelvis,
the line between your pecs,
your hipbones,
your throbbing cock,
all too eager to enter me,
and me,
oh so eager to spread my legs wide and oblige.
We come together like primal beasts,
like diners having feasts,
like scientist doing experiments,
like youngsters playing games for kicks,
it's all so decadent,
but when it's right,
it's just about perfect.
These are a few of my favorite things:
the way our hands touch when you pass the bowl to me;
the way you pass me a smoke, a beer, a plate of food, anything, really;
the way you look down at me, admiringly, desiringly, devouringly, empoweringly,
overpoweringly, dominantly;
the way you take me, the way you make me
bask in your presence,
at times, unable to voice the simplest things --
like how much this,
you,
mean to me;
or how you take my breath away,
leaving me aching and shaking,
the earth quaking,
my lips quivering,
my knees weak,
shivering,
goosebumps covering my skin,
you've done it to me again,
brought me to the brink
and beyond
and now, i'm gone --
lost on some other plane,
where only the sound of your voice,
the touch of your limbs,
can bring me back to this realm.
And god, darling,
every instant of this bliss,
this deviant kiss,
this extraordinary existence,
is a million and one moments of splendor, wonder, pounding thunder, rioting rain,
as we drain each other
until we lie limp and again begin this old, familiar,
haunting,
delicate,
wondrous
refrain.
copyright 2010 Katherine Andrews
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