hold that breath, savour the moment of pungent scent deep in the lungs and you so close I feel the heat upon my lips my face warms at the thought of indulging in a secret passion, I yearn towards the touch of you the scent, the heat the essence of you my fingers tingle at the smoothness, firm and warm as I take hold lean forward, lips half parted then, a sigh a breath I raise the cup for my first sip of Sunday morning coffee!
The sun has moved from sideways to behind me, dawn air is cold, crisp snap against my cheeks that fills my sleepy head with eyes-wide-open sparkle as I race along the empty road, all mine, until the yellow bus pulls out to bring me down to eighty, my headlong run outracing shade cut short, slowed to a saunter that let the chill sink claws into my bones. The journey home is sometimes pungent, 'mount stinkaroo', the landfill, smells of death sharp contrast to the green and living hills, then comes the noisy stink of pigs, a clamor in my nostrils as they ripen toward Christmas and the knife; I ride sedately, sparing horses, their power curbed and reined as I hit the stretch to home to find the sun has carved a pathway, hot and gold and leading to my door.
Night has reeled back shadows cast by day's bright eye, has smoothed the world to quiet symmetry that teases memory with a sudden shape a sense of having been, of seeing this before a maybe in the mind confused by folds of dark that pool across the landscape. Cool moonlight sweeps a pallid brush across the highlights of the scene a gleam that shades the unrelenting dark to grey where ghosts, where bogeymen take shape to fill the contours of the land, the mind alight from too much coffee in the blood. Rest in the night and let the mares be dreams of candyfloss, of cobweb lace, of chargrilled steaks and fish that did not get away.
Good! And now I get to go play radio host for the rest of the night. We had an earthquake today so the main topic is a no-brainer and it is Independence day tomorrow so filling six hours should be a piece of cake!
May I love you in the moment or must it be for ever? May I kiss you on the lips while running fingers through his hair? May I take you back to my place then call a taxi for you? May I write you steamy letters then refuse to take your calls? May I ring your doorbell naked underneath the mink I bought you? May I leave before you're finished because oh, I need to think? May I tell you, oh so gently, it's not you but I have issues? May I tell the other ladies that I scored and how you loved it? May I write your private number in the bathroom on the wall? And when I get the answer. when you rush to take my call, may I tell you, filled with laughter I don't fancy you at all!
Dance harlequin's ballet an icy china mask that shows no skin no eyes to read to dream upon just movements of the hands a curl of fingers saying yes or no please come please go a toe tap saying meet me dance with me fantastic light and airy in my arms a sloping shoulder says perhaps or never body language hamstrung by the shuttered eyes that should speak volumes. the masks we wear become us over time cannot release the innocence the feelings that they shield unmask at midnight join me in the danger of a feeling if you dare.
Thank you Pearl, your thread on masks let this one out.
I have always considered the possibility that once I look away the world as I perceive it ceases to exist not because of any thing special about me but because each person has their own perception of reality so reality is a very fluid concept.
<he just doesnt feel ready to see me again, at least not yet. But after new year he probably will.>
Guess he never got the concept of living in the moment!
Karen you don't need a gameplayer in your life, you are too valuable. Put his stuff in a box and put it outside. Geez, this stuff always gets pulled at holiday time.
bajanblue Forum Posts (3,724)
Is a Sagittarius.
Love it in the morning...
'Morning DKnew. Your coffee thread started this.