This moment...

I love the idea of arresting you like this. Describing myself to you as I lie here in such a sweet agony of desire. Wanting but not wanting you. Vivid flesh, enticingly made up and both of us so real that I could just reach out a long, enamelled nail to touch your nose. Or run its sharp point through your flossy blond(e)ness. Or take some brunette strands and crunch them with my teeth; feel the blood swell my lips around your long dark locks. As if my words alone could clutch your chin and pull your brown-eyed gaze to mine. And our eyes could meet and fleetingly decide that, yes, we could.
But no - let's not.
We might prefer to stay like this.
Apart but not apart.
Like the dazzle of a promise before it is betrayed.
Rich, velvety, immense - like the evening sky before the dawn dilutes it.
And this could be a sign.
Like a shoe dangling from tipsy toes.
A tentative encouragement before the moment passed.

An opening of sorts...

I am the calm, still centre...

Returning to world of bustle and strife I am eyed resentfully by squat black dogs, almost bowled over by careering kids but somehow remain serene. And now that calm soul seeks an opening, a door between two worlds. Perhaps the words will help. Perhaps the words will guide my path, caught as I am between a lust for life and the need for peace.

I will trust the words and hope they come. But now the world demands...