Reviving the Jitterbug

 

Even on perfectly dry days,

You can tell she is a bike commuter

The way the steam rises from her hair

(rife with river winds, dark breezes and auto exhaust)

The vapor of the urban rain ascending from pavement…

Mixing with her own curing earthen air…

Teasing my nostrils to open towards her so that i instinctively lean in to Inhale…

Again…

And, with each drawn breath I am delivered

Into some assumed, and shared understanding

That triggers an unexpected longing

For the salt and sandalwood

That I absorb in drops from her hidden peak

Buried far within the folds of her lips…

To nibble the edge of her lobe…

Tempting taste and scent to swirl together

In a sultry dance of essence

Her essence

Imprinted on me

 

Her sweat sneaks its way into my resistant favor….

Aromatically acrid amber offering an implied challenge

To surrender my struggle against acceptance of this desire

For some partially pent up masculinity in female form…

This passion pushing between her and me…

To which she tells me she can’t say no

And for which I can’t get seem to get enough yes

So that when she leaves me

She leaves me to be swept up in an unending random restlessness

If only I could bottle this active yearning…

This haunting, elusive elixir…

If only I could calm this active seeking…

Of her fragrance

Her flavor

To learn to release the Genie in a tempered way

Consume without being consumed

Safety without controlling

Inhabit without ownership

 

Can I realize that with her?

Will I be able, as unready as I am?

Will she cultivate enough courage to let me try?

This one I have apparently been circling over the last fourteen years

With a persistent two degrees of separation

Unbeknownst to each other

The independent stories of this lifetime

Leading us here to a

Devastation

At last,

Finally we meet

Again…

She called out to me,

Playing as aggressively as any forward would…

Ensnaring me with her vaguely familiar witty repartee

Sparking muscle memories of being immersed in her landscape before…

Flooded by her juicy interior

In another incarnation

In a different way

They encircle us now

Muscles…memories…

Driving my hands to grip her wee hipbones

In this moment

Molding them to the heat of my palms,

The aching in my fingertips…

Her sensorial storm cloud sweeps over me

Engulfing me so that my own hips react to her rhythmic undulations

Creating a call and response

“Darlin’” she exhales into the hollow of my neck

I am already lost in our musk soaked sway…

 

And they tell me that if we had never met,

I would have dreamed her into being

I would have traced the trail of her sweetness

Deep into this rain forest

Of moss covered, clay held heat…

Her perfectly imperfect blend of

Soft and hard

Rough and refined

Industriously dirty and a shared shower’s serenity

(at the end of a Wednesday night’s dream)

Movement and stillness

Devastation and fulfillment

Until I unearthed her

Again…

This soul I have so adored

 

xoT

~ ∞♥ for my Mistake ~