My eyes open to the morning light, the Sun gently peaking in through the leafy gaps the tree outside my window makes.
I love the morning. I beg the light…Please touch me.
There is something about the chill of the night being met by the warmth of the morning light. I search for it, the differences between the two, and the feeling I find when one meets the other. I love them both and the power of all that is in between.
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I feel alone as I stretch toward the empty spaces in my life, the voids giving me room to move, room to know myself. Suddenly, I feel you there.
I love the way you feel. I beg you…Please touch me.
There is something about the wave of pleasure that cascades through me as your lips press against mine. I love the way you feel, the way you help me feel, the shear pleasure of it all. I want more as you enter me, as I enter you, as we share a space no others can share. You remind me of the emptiness, which reminds me of you. I love them both, and the power of all that is in between.
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I feel the sting of endings I never would have written. I struggle with the voids, the fantasy of failure, and in songs I cannot sing. But in that silence I can hear it, the sound of something new.
I love the sound of new beginnings. I beg the music…Please touch me.
There is something about hearing your favorite song for the very first time, of playing that very first chord in the song that you have written. The notes flow like a waterfall, and I stand as a naked bather letting its essence flow all over me. I leave the shore for the insecurity of the rapids, and leave the rapids for the security of the shore, all becoming the same in the blur of living freely.
I honor you, the Alpha and the Omega, and the narrow line between. I honor you, love and hate, beginnings and endings, pain and joy.
Please touch me, with equal vigor, and let me know my truth through the loving caresses we share in the moments we spend together.
Peace.
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Editor: Emily Bartran
Photos: Flickr
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