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By j. knipp Date: 2003 Apr 03 Comment on this Work [[2003.04.03.20.03.26103]] |
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It is often said that in darkness we are alone. However, the inky covering that was about us did not segregate or separate. Rather it wrapped us in its cool unbroken arms. Just as the blankets we slept under. No, whoever said that in darkness we are alone, did not have you by their side. Though it was late, and I slipped in and out of sleep, as does a ship slide in an out of sight in high waves. I still could feel your skin. As if it was the tether to my consciousness. And somehow, though underneath that shroud of darkness, sleep, and blankets. My lips found yours. They might as well have found the clouds of heaven. Here now I was certain that I was sleeping... dreaming. Your lips moved in kind to mine. They bid me gently not fully out. I could feel your breath on me, your body's rhythms stirring. But I could just be at home. Where darkness is solitude, where you are thousands of miles away. These thoughts stirred only now because my body felt so unhinged, so encapsulated, warm and loved. My only proof that you were here, or more so we were here, were these lips that slid across mine. No dream of my conjuring could testify to these lips. Still to try this further my hand slid across this silk clad form next to me. The way my hand dipped up and down over the curves stirred something more than love and warmth in me. My hands could see. They could see the smoothness of your body. It is often debated which is better... reality or fantasy. Now I can say both. The way we touched... there was no roughness, harshness, nothing to indicate reality. It was like floating. Are bodies intertwined, two leaves drifting on an eddying breeze. Then again you were there, we were here. I wrapped my arms around you, cupping you into me. The vibrations of your voice undeniable, honey in the heart. I had my doubts. Stranger things had happened while I slumbered. Yet the next morning you confirmed it. Such an otherworldly sensation! No dream could compare. There is something flitting about dreams, they are flimsy gossamer filaments so easily routed in the rush and rumble of the conscious process. Accordingly they can bring only a vague almost passing sense of contentment. However, this is something that will lovingly linger for as long as my brain can grasp it. |