You know the pause when we are first together, that brief moment when we face each other knowing that this is the time. When there suddenly isn’t enough air in the room, and the small step towards you seems so impossibly far. When time slows and seems to stretch like some absurd slow motion cartoon; and then, with an almost audible click you feel in every bone and fiber, like the joining of magnets, suddenly the distance is gone and every sense is charged, electric, vibrating. It is at once the end and the beginning, the finding and losing one’s self entirely, forever.
Each time the first time, every time new. Beginning ravenously or tenderly, wild and brazen or so softly that the caress is the brush of air raising the finest hairs. Moods like the weather, currents of emotion and desire, stirred by the smallest gesture; the arc of a glance, the curve of your lips before a smile forms. They build like the meniscus of water trembling above the rim of the glass.
Eyes closed, I brush back the hair from your face, letting my fingers trace your chin, the proud jut of your nose, the arch of your lips, the curve of your neck and then along your shoulders, as I slowly bring you close. Our eyes open and in the almost too close intimacy of eye to eye my lips find yours, my tongue draws out yours, and I feel the pulse of your heartbeat as if it were my own. Feel breath and blood quicken as fingers slide down, that long, slow, delicious slide down…
