A Letter to My Beautiful Lover

For you (wherever or whenever you may be),

A stream of consciousness, thoughts and feelings flooding my mind, coursing through my body, flowing into the sea of memories of you. I spend time and gold trying to deny them, but they resurrect no matter how hard I push them aside. I must give them an outlet. I bring them out here. Will you see them and feel them? I won't know unless you tell me. Am I the only one who knows that?

You are in my dreams. I think about you sometimes until I cry from the emptiness of the reality we're stuck in.

I want to find a way to bring it across, to paint with words that grab you and penetrate your psyche; to weaponize poetry, sending out sensual arrows aimed at your heart. The word 'intensity' repeats again and again. Desire and intensity erupt in nuclear fantasies.

Your blue eyes. How I long to look directly into them up close, to surrender to the desire we both feel. To gaze into your eyes is to entwine with your spirit. I want to feel your spirit, as I long to feel your body. It has always been spiritual with you. The pangs of the spirit are far greater than those of the body, for they gnaw deeply into the soul with no respite. Oh, to feel your blue eyes looking joyfully into mine! Sweet girl!

Mischievous imaginations drive the needs within us. The need to touch, the need to obey, the need to share the surrender.

I feel that I am with you when I am not. We are one together.

Our desires will be deducted from our shares in Paradise. I give mine up most willingly to sin with you. I will pay the wages for my sin. And yours.

We danced without touch, shared without sight, and listened without hearing. I want to touch, see, and hear you in the heat of the Texas plains, in the twilight on a frozen lake in Alaska, in the bed of a queen, in a cloud on the mountain, in the eyes of the tiger. We are there in that place that we know.

I want to make you feel how beautiful you are. I want you to know it. I want to breathe on every millimeter of your skin, covering your body with my tongue. I want you. I want to make love with you. I want to be inside you, moving and grinding as we look into each other's eyes, swallowing and devouring each other in the passion that has been simmering for so long. I want to fuck you, to go on and on for hours, not even thinking about my orgasm, just experiencing and savoring the joy of melding with you. I want to share unabashed primal screams of passion with you. I want to bite you, to spank you, to grab your hair, to feel your nails tearing my flesh, to hear you screeching obscenities into my ear. Let us push our senses to the limit, to the edges of their possibilities. And then let us laugh until we break down in tears of joy.

Let us pray through the spider's web to the rainbow.

I kick Edgar Allen Poe, shooting pellets at the Raven, cursing his speech.

We must do everything in 12's: 12 kisses for 12 minutes, 69 for 12, 12 x 12 with a new 12 rearranged. I want to give you 12 orgasms and listen to the sounds 12 times over. You understand.

I can read you. You know that. I want to look into your eyes as you kneel before me. We would know our truths in that position. We would know each other.

To kiss you! Our tongues slip-sliding against each other, revealing ourselves in sensations. I want you. Is it in vain? Is the obsession a ghost that must be kept in the closet forevermore?

Hit me with chains, flog me for sin, punish me my trespasses. Refuse me, but feel me. Reject me, but hear me voicing what we bury.

It pains me because I know you know. You must do what must be done. I ache in acquiescence. I bow to necessity while uttering regret. You, who know my soul, you who have shared your secrets, you understand most fully all that I say. You feel the pleading in my words.

I wait for your word.

Whisper to me, sweet lady! Whisper to me from behind locked doors. I will hear you. I will never stop waiting. There is still time.

D