Fanatism



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I reach to touch your face but you turn away. What have I done? You say you don't want to do this any more and when I ask what it is you mean you answer

"Nothing"

with a sigh. The rain wets your hair and give you this crazy wet look that is so difficult to achieve. I watch as the raindrops traces your skin. Why won't you let me touch you?

I watch as the frustration builds inside you. I want to help but you won't allow it. I ask what you want me to do. What to say. Your answer:

Silence.

You pull your legs towards you, embrace them and hide your face at your knees. So many choices. So may ways to tell you I love you. So many different ways to say it. To show you.

But nothing will come. Nothing escape my lips.

"Nothing"

is the answer you get when asking me what I'm thinking of.

"Nothing"

I say and think of you.

oh how I love her hands. Smooth with long slender fingers. Her hands are smaller than mine but so much more beautiful. I love to watch her move her hands. Watch the veins move under her skin when she plays with something. A tiny matchbox. A teaspoon. Paperclip.

I like to watch her hands when she reads the newspaper. I like to watch her index finger as it moves up and down, caressing the edge of the paper. Almost as sensual as when she pulls her fingers alongside my bellybutton when we're in bed.

I love to watch her do the dishes. Sometimes I stand beside her whiping off the plates, and sometimes I just sit on the kitchen counter, watching her hands move in and out of the water. When she squeeze the sponge and let the thin foam slowly drip off her hands is pure criminal! Watching her slightly tanned hands all wet and foamy drives me crazy. I want to take her...
...right then and there...
...and let those hands wet me in a way that only she know how to do.

You stop and look at me. Smiling. Tanned skin from the hours of goofing in the sun. You look like an elf in your bonewhite robe; tightened by a black belt with a silver buckle.
The view is magnificent and the feelings so strong. It's hard to grasp it all at once. I try but it's all too powerful. The world is spinning and I spin with it. Arms stretched out as I twirl. Laughing at how it all makes me feel. How you make me feel.
Dark curls surround your face as you turn away from me and wave for me to follow. Where are we going, Love? Tell me! Is it one of your secret places?

You speak but I can't hear you. Your mouth is moving, telling me something, but no sound reach my ears. In slowmotion you point towards the forest. Pointing and speaking in silence. It's as if time slows down. I try to follow you but something is pulling me from you. Up. Up and away. I reach for you but to no avail. You get smaller and smaller for every second.

I want you with me so we can take off. Fly away, over the clouds. Over the mountains. Not worry about a thing. Spend eternity together. Only being.

If I can offer you that, would you be mine?

I want to feel those lips of yours. Are they as tasty as they look? Soft and sweet. And that tongue. I want to feel it. Squeeze in between my lips and play with my tongue. Sucking lips in a slow but erotic speed.
Your beautiful face needs to be kissed. The corner of the mouth. Your jaw all the way to your ear. This delicious neck of yours will get a special treat. Light bites and nibbles. But hard enough to show I'm serious.

I don't mind being pushed up against the wall. To feel your body pressed against mine would be bliss. Trap my hands between your and the wall. Make me beg for a kiss. I like teasing, and being teased.
Would you like a kiss? What if I refuse. What will you do? Push your leg between mine? Put pressure into the motion and watch my reaction? Watch as I gasp and then steal that kiss you've been wanting.

I can feel you're hungry. Your kisses are demanding something more. I want to give it to you. But not here. Not now. Do we have time before it's time to say goodbye? Or is this not the goodbye, but the first real hello?

I reach over you to turn off the radio. Don't want to wake you, love.
You move underneath me. Slowly. Inhaling in that extended way you always do when you're about to wake up. When something has disturbed your sleep. You roll back onto your back and sleepily pull your hand to your face and rub your eyes and one eyebrow. You're so gorgeous when you do that.

Two eyes squinting at me in the somewhat dark bedroom. The sun will be rising within the hour. You shouldn't wake up yet.

"Hey"

I whisper and give you a tender "suck one lip" kiss.

"mmmrhhrmm"

is all you can muster.
I reach for the remote to the stereo, turn it on on a low volume, and skip to "Hammering in my head" and the part where Shirley Manson deliver a message from me. "You should be sleeping, my love. Tell me what you're dreaming of".

"C'm'ere"

you croak with a sleepy voice and put your warm hand on my neck, right under my ear. The duvet rustles as you pull me closer. You're warm. Inviting. Sleepy or not - your kisses are demanding and I would respond the way you like it, if only I could stay a bit longer. Stay here in your warm and comforting arms. Under the duvet and not bother about petty details such as work, responsibility and reality.
Let's make our own reality.