Daydreams and Nocturnal Flights

I have spent the days this last week dreaming of twined fingers and lips brushed, teasingly, to lips. I have thought of exploring your mouth, of the rising tongue to halt my advance and the battle that ensues. I imagine capturing your eyes with mine and then tasting the smile on your lips.

You do not haunt me, as women are so often said to haunt the minds of men. You do not inhabit the dank corners of my mind, flitting from the light. Rather, you are radiant, illuminating every thought of you like a beacon. Like emerging from the void of deep space into a nebula. You create for every fragment of this world I destroy, crafting when I would disassemble.

I have spent the days dreaming of kissing you and the nights drinking those thoughts away, so on the morrow I might dream them again.

I dream of dancing in slow circles beneath streetlights on deserted city lanes, and seeing the leaves here fall into your hair beside the lake while the sun sets over the Poconos and winter creeps into the valley. I wonder at how snow would look, clinging to you like a second skin while below us the Hudson freezes.

There is a childish wonder in me, perhaps because of the novelty of all this. Perhaps because I could be so easily captured in your palms, held up to the light, and blown away like so much ash on a cool summer breeze.

I dream of other things. Your wrists pinned beneath my hands, held tight above your head and pressed, like our bodies, into my bed. The rocking of hips, the sharp intake of air, eyes squeezed shut, fists clenched, toes curled. I dream of gnashing teeth and passion, sweat and silk and your voice in my ear. A fervent whisper without coherent thought, without complete words. Here, too, I dream of lips teasing kisses as if I cannot get enough. I dream of craving you like a junkie, and aching nights when my fingers reach for you and grasp at cold, empty sheets. I dream of longing more powerful than even I, who so relishes in physical delights, in the comfort of flesh and bone and thrumming heartbeats, have never known. A need I can not surmount.

I will dream, until these dreams spin out into reality.

Nightly Yours,
-S.R.