Hardly erotica

[smokingboot]

still, some might prefer not to read it.



I wonder what pulls me into love-making. Is it scent?
More than the texture of my fingers across skin, between and into, exploring and wondering, is it the smell that makes me realise I'm here with you?

Trees outside, they never stop talking, and electric light and I wonder if, in the noise of passing cars, people would notice if our shadows grew longer and deeper, I wonder if they would notice that we were different.

I'll bet they would notice if they touched, if they used their noses. If they could not see the lanterns glowing in your eyes, if they could not hear the sound of you crossing a room, they could smell your scent as every part of you opens in surrender or conquest, if they only tried they could feel you. Even in rest you are some kind of dancer. Nothing stays within you, it flows through the air, and I ignore it if I can or touch it if I dare.

No danger in you save the intensity. I could detach from this. Words help me, I will hide in the idea. The idea, like a scent, emanates from you. If I make love to you would I feel some kind of star pulsing, some kind of darkness moving? you are a world, a map of heaven and hell. These words are meaningless. You are.

Intense and naked. You are.

How can I be here, aware, my nails crossing your arms and chest, my hair on your skin, the comfort and the tension in you, too full, too here, too now. No escape into stars and ideas, if I should taste you I will be trapped in the bliss and see nothing at all except you. I know you would never want that for me. But you have a scent like a flower and tonight is very warm. And anyway, I never sleep. I am safe, sleepless. Do not imagine dreams help at all.

Salt, the sea, a hyacinth, a breeze from the open window cooling my skin. Sex is no more than this.

My desire is endless.

Comments

[falco-biarmicus.livejournal.com]

Beautiful

[smokingboot.livejournal.com]

Like you!