Sex is easy.

Mindless, nearly instinctual, any 2 people can “have sex.”

I see no allure in that. I have no desire for meaningless, empty, vapid intercourse for the simple mission of orgasm, climax, or absolution.

I require far more sustenance.

I require satiation of every dimension that is me.

For every dazzling facet to be dripping wet at the thought of it – to be turned on from skin to soul. I want to connect, to meet someone in the secrets of our eyes and swim in the depths of ourselves – stripped, naked, and free.

I want someone to touch me.

To touch my mind, peel apart the layers and want to examine every bit of them.

To want to know me. To want not only to please themselves, but to please me. To feel respect for my body, even as their hands are wrapped around my throat, and they tear me up inside with uncontrolled thrusts and unbridled passion. To love me in their own mad and wild way. To teach me why the moon pulls on the tides, and surrender to my gravity.

I want it to be a journey.

A dark, twisted, magical, spontaneous adventure.

I want a vibrancy, a zest for life.

I want to be explored, searched, revelled at, as if I were a vast and challenging mountain whose highest peaks promised such a view. A spell-bound moment that steals the breath from your lungs, and the fear from your body, showing that it was worth the struggle. That the hidden beauty is worth the climb.

I want love and hate and fuck-lust and animalistic passion and soul-shattering connectivity.

I want the dark, the dirty, the unclean, the unkempt.

I want the magic, and the shine, and the intrigue. I want the raw, the real, the actual, the unsheathed, the unfiltered.

I want the magic.

I want the intrigue.

I want to share my precious energy with one that matches mine.

I want the battery effect. I want captivating conversation and shared oxygen. I want a meeting of the minds and a meshing of the souls. I want late nights, bathing in starlight, revealing our deepest secrets to the moon, and to each other.

I want to fall into a soul like mine.

I want to grow it, to cultivate it, to sustain it.

I want the hunger to sharpen, insatiable, every time we meet, craving only each other.

I want to taste home on a pair of lips, and find peace in a smile.

I want a voice to roll over me – as calming as prairie thunder.

I want to gasp out a name that I could get used to saying, over and over – maybe for a long, long while.

For all the days that I am blessed with.

I want to intertwine hands and clench fists, raking my nails along an expanse of soft skin, as the ecstasy overtakes every fibre of my being.

I want to surrender to emotion, to the feeling, to be consumed by the storm, to be dragged out, pulled into the undertow of their desperation for me.

I want to be the moon to the sun, and the light to the dark, the yin to the yang.

​I want balance, I want movement, I want growth, I want challenge, I want acceptance, I want support, I want the work.

I want to be that compliment to someone else.
A perfect mate to their soul.

A partner for life.

A mirror, a home, a refuge, a safe space.

And I will always want to go deeper.