We’re so close, the kiss looming within our imaginations and then, all at once, we embrace. Your lips upon mine, my body pressed against yours, longing and presenting the completion of the rest of our probable lives.
Our lips are silent, as I hold you beneath me, above me, around me and all over. The words have been spoken, the laughter said and done, with only the silent moments to come. We’ve kissed nearly every inch of each other, explored, devoured, taken and reduced ourselves to hot, mildly broken and satisfied spectacles of human endeavour.
All defences abandoned, all borders open to explore, we’ve allowed ourselves to be consumed with the passionate moments that had flickered in front of our eyes the day before. We liked, we hastened, we’re here at this point in time. As I stare at your naked flourishing body, from across the room, I cannot contain my delight at the moonlight’s gaze upon your form. You are a spectacle that knows no compare. Your words warm and enlighten my heart and I feel that we could be heading towards the inevitable..
It’s truth, it’s the ideal, it’s the very notion of being more than the solitary beings we often find ourselves. The warmth can be intoxicating. The warmth can be… everything.
The wounds start to form within our minds. The anxiety from the messages, those new moments of scolding, passive remarks resound within our mind. We thought that we could be something new, something else, but the years before us, seemed to have poisoned the good that could have been. We didn’t resolve, we didn’t explore, when we had the chance upon our lonely, solitary moments.
We thought that yet another would resolve the problems of the other. It’s a lesson, another lost soul, abandoned and blamed for a vapid range of reasons. My heart hurts, my head aches and the heart yearns. Holding the other pillow, wishing it was you, as I feel the poisonous words expressed by the both of us, invading my thoughts. I could have said, we should have said, we would have done but instead, we are apart. Too soon, too quick, too easy to fall into the fast-paced embrace of a new moment in time. Maybe next time, it will be different, as I fail to even remotely change my own point of view. I ignore, I resist, the thought of resolving any of the inner conflict that resides within my understanding of events.
To me, you see, the entire world is living at break neck speed and when you really think about it, in the great scheme of things, ten years could simply be equated to the math of three, singular, solitary days. If only we’d spend three days resolving, instead of trying to find someone to patch over our individual life learned faults.