Dear Lover,
I have dreamed of you in the
past few days, as I have dreamed of ice cream melting down my fingers on a hot
July evening. Like a tide, you continuously wash over me. You are wearing a
blue suit, white shirt, navy blue & yellow tie, and tasseled loafers. I feel the gentle
caress of your gloveless hand, as my trembling hand slowly observes, and then
creeps over yours. Overcome by a frozen loneliness that eats at me, I
frantically grasp
at every memory I conjure of you.
The little hotel in Paris where we made love
with a mad frenzy. The burdening of the hardness beneath the sheets as I tried
to tame you. Our mouths so dry, we wet each other’s with champagne. You pulled
off my white sweater and jeans, holding them to your face just to breath in my
perfume. Drawing yourself up into me, not immersing yourself into intellectual
exertion, you glided right into foreplay. I can almost hear you still purring, as
you drew the breath from me. Your eyes taking photographs as I stood in front
of the full-length mirror, posed for you in all my nakedness.
The melting of
the ice cube in my mouth kind of reminds me of you, soft clay of your hands on
my body never felt so good.
Then I open my eyes...darkness dims, morning has come, my dream dashes forward, and there you are, still asleep, right next to me....your cheek resting on my pillow, your breathing, faintly falling onto the bareness of my back.......I love you all over again, with eyes wide open!
CK
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