Tuesday, September 7, 2010


I'm just a little frayed around the edges; don't mind that, I'm not likely to fall apart where you can see. Be sure that you don't tug too hard or I may unravel, and you'll be able to read my story in the threads of me, the story you'll wish you never knew. There are desires there which you wouldn't perceive, and regrets you would not believe.

Wishes to run my fingers along everything, absorbing the essence through touch; making Beauty tactile. Moments of frenzy where to see is not enough, when satisfaction only arrives through contact; a whole dimension can be lost without touch like the roughness of the bark of a tree, or the softness of velvet or flower petals.
Desires to lightly trace my fingertips along the contours of your body; skin barely making contact with skin. Desires to lose myself in your neck, and leave behind a trail of kisses leading down to shoulders...chest...navel...
Desires to intertwine my fingers with yours, or to weave them through your hair. Desires to be tender, loving and affectionate without a plague of insecurities. Desires to feel you wrapped around me in the dark. Desires to see those desires reflected in your eyes.

Innate longings to fly free, in the most literal sense. There's the need to feel for a second that I am flying, that I am liberated, that I am invincible. How unfortunate it is that humans don't have wings. One day I shall climb into the sky, look down on the earth, far, far below, and then jump; the ground will rush up to meet me, but in those long minutes before we meet, the wind will roar around me, and the clouds will melt in protest; for that moment, I will feel invincible. The desire pulls at me, I can feel it in my chest, in my heart, more than any other. I may have to live with it unfulfilled.

There is a yearning to be reckless and carefree, to live selfishly for just one day. I want to laugh at the most ridiculous of things until the tears pour forth in an unstoppable flood. I want to sink into the haze of a vapour, creating a different persona for me for a few hours; perhaps I shall be touched by my inner artist, the one suppressed by thoughts and reason. I have the urge to see colours I'd never seen before and absorb details I'd been too careless to see. I have the thirst to pour out all my heart and soul for the rest of eternity.

Does that scare you?

It terrifies me.

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