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Sunlight's Ache

"A stolen moment shakes the walls built tall, thick and eons ago......"

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I let the amazement wash over me with an unadulterated wave as I stand there silently. Looking down at you, I quietly take in yet another moment that seems to expand infinitely outward as it stops time once again. The early afternoon sun is coming through the sheers and has not quite made it all the way across the bed to where you are sleeping. Dust particles tattle as the late summer breeze puffs into the room cool from the shade of the oak tree on the north side of the house.

To watch you breathe in the unencumbered bliss of sleep paralyzes me with fear and rapture; exquisite energy hums from somewhere deep in my psyche that terrifies and enthralls me. I am so afraid and filled with joy the paradox of it almost escapes me. Quietly, I utter thanks to what ever is driving the cosmos as you shift onto your back and readjust into the subconscious comfort of sleep and dreams.

Time starts to move again; bitching and moaning like a Willie's cranking to life on a cold morning. I can tell that you are not far from waking and hold my breath thinking that the roar of my inhale and exhale will disturb you. In my mind I know that you are unaware of my stolen moment and yet that deep place that is still flooding me with energy wants to believe. It wants to believe you are not only aware of me; that you are the source feeding a part of me I had locked away so tightly, never to be revisited.

You are restless and are moving with the twitches and jerks of coming to consciousness. I watch quietly as you wake up; akin to watching someone come back to the surface of a warm lake. First bubbles, then ripples and then a head slides out of the water with an inhale. Your eyes slowly focus on me standing over you and you realize that you are not dreaming anymore. As you slowly shake the disoriented jumbled mix of dreams and consciousness into a more logical pattern of thought, you stretch. The slow deliberate flex of your body is feline: graceful, slow and subtly coiled. Another blast of energy fills my head; this one is a little more visceral. You look at me and mumble something.

"Huh? I didn't catch that," I say.

A wickedly playful look dances in your eyes, as you shift up onto the pillows. You are wearing one of the worn out, paint stained oxfords I wear for studio work, buttoned only in the middle by a couple of buttons. You repeat yourself with a demure grin. "Pervert!"

Caught off guard, my brain shakes itself loose from time immaterial reeling to meet you on your turf.

"Oh yeah?! Pervert?!" I retort to your obvious glee; as I pounce over the bed I growl, "I'll show you pervert!".

Your reflexes are like a wound spring and I land on the warm occupied a split second before. You roll away like lightning and mid-roll you twist in the most amazing fashion. How the hell your body does that I will never know. Facing me on all fours, your face flashes a stubborn defiance lit up by a grin begging to tangle. My hand sweeps as I right myself and I land a grip on one of your wrists. I am instantly aware of your strength and yet even more so of how small your wrist is in my hand. I am once again amazed at your delicate beauty backed up by an amazing strength.

Instinctively you lean back sitting up on your heels.

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I let you pull me and using your momentum against you, I lean you back just far enough to keep you off kilter. Even though your sense of balance has been honed like a Bushido blade by all of those countless hours at the barre I have just enough forward stance to have the advantage. As you try to stabilize yourself with your other hand I sweep forward and grab it, pinning both wrists at the small of your back.

"What now?" I challenge and even as the words come out of my mouth, you relent and fall backwards pulling me with you.

A little wiggle and shake of your wrists and you are free again. You try to roll over, but my weight traps you before you can get free. I catch your hands again, this time over your head. Your eyes blaze fire as you arch your back against me; pushing and then wrapping your legs around my waist. Your hair is splayed out over your shoulders and arms save for one stray lock across your face. Your cheeks are flushed; eyes full of light as you dare me to bring the fight.

Instantly your beauty hits me like a five pound sledge, raw and unchecked. You struggle just enough as I steal my kiss; protesting for only a moment before relenting and reciprocating with an unspoken affirmative.

We are in that moment "now" where terror meets surrender . There is still so much unsaid between us and yet instinctively we know we are pushing each other into sticky places guarded by hawthorns and brier patches. It is in this moment I know I can let you in; at the same time I am so terrified of letting you know me I am paralyzed. Your safety and gentleness swallow that fear in quiet solace in a way that makes it okay to let you have those guarded places, unprotected, vulnerable, scarred.

Your legs release their stronghold for a more delicate dance; my hands release your wrists to push that one stray lock of hair from your eyes. As we relax into each other and once again slide together our coupling slows so as to stop time and find that deep, easy ethereal place where only you and I exist. With you, I want not just to prolong our connection but to use this moment, this perfect space and time to truly blur where you and I begin and end.

The fact I feel so joined with you we become more than the sum of two shakes me to my core. Not enough however, to divert me away. Every shred of insecurity is pushed aside by a deep understanding of what true surrender is. I slowly push inside you and as you accept me the look I am given makes even the sunlight now slanting across the room caught by dust and breeze ache.

We look into each other with the same open, innocent, bewildered ancient look that started this.... this wide eyed wondrous dance and repeat that next first kiss. It was such a kiss it shattered thick, well-forged, meticulously maintained armor and smashed down walled battlements standing more than just a few years dutifully withstanding and insulating against abandonment, injury and regret for two wounded, secreted broken hearts.

Time and space fall away.

© ~socuriouso~

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Written by socuriouso
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