To Nathan:

Your head lies in my lap and I listen to the words you speak. I watch you face through amazed eyes and see thoughts expressed through facial expressions and hand movement. The feeling is cozy and warm as comfort is abound and freedom reigns. We can be who we are.

I stroke your head while I listen to you and I begin to stir. Maybe it is my breathing or my movement that gets you stirring and you pull me forward to kiss you. Our mouths are open and our tongues start off slow and become more wild with each lash. This intensity is followed to the floor as we tear each others clothes off like animals.

You know that I want to be tied so you grab me and...
A struggle is given as that is more fun as I want you to work for it. I try to bite you...maybe I succeed, but I want you and you sense it. Your force is stronger than mine and that arouses me like a cat in heat.
His voice is like willows is in the wind
His spirit is childlike and wonderfully imaginative
His kindness and thoughtfulness brings a tear of joy
His respect is something that I value as it is priceless
His sharing and caring ways are unlimited
His body is artfully crafted and there is room for imagination
His rage and frustration is humorous yet a turn on
His eyes see what others do not as
His mind is open and endless
He is sweeter than the sweetest candy
The beauty of this is that I can see him in the park with me! He is Apollo and he is a god in his own right!
Hail! The sun is shining!
O, mind of fantasy lift me and take me away
Art there no end to my longing?
Bring me to the arms that I want draped around me
Bring me to the lips that I want to kiss
Allow me the warm of thy body under cold sheets
Allow me the gentle caresses and rough play that thou art capable of
Art thou there in reality?
Aye, as I have heard you stir!

Lest we tear ourselves from this dreamlike state, reality will not occur. Dost the pain of longing bear more weight? Nay to pain and aye to joy! The joy of caring and sharing as we have been doing...one more step beyond. Art thou at the edge? My fingers grip the cliff’s cuff and yet I want to free fall for the rush of it all. Let’s splatter the walls with blood and litter the floor with paper or mags. Let’s paint the walls, ceilings, and floors black and enter the constellations in every room. Lit only by candles held by skeletal hands that have long ago lost feeling. We cast enough to feel for all the bones that have yet to turn to dust. ~ Dec 15, 2006