Thursday, October 6, 2011

Remembering Renders Hope


A footfall, a slight propulsion forward, she leans into it allowing him to lead her. Or was the hand of hope, flat palmed and pulling her gently but forcefully into taking that first step towards him. She walks, reluctantly until his hand takes hers and his arms enfold her.

It was wonderful, brief, magical - a moment shared, parallel paths twisting into a double helix. Fingers locked, lips engaged, bodies entwined, skin against skin sweat on sweat, the erotic exchange of fluids and the fragrance of the sea . . salty, sticky, sweet, intimate, tactile - he tasted amazing.

A heart retains what a mind tries impossibly to throw asunder. Subliminal is the memory like a dream. Was it even real? A brain remembers it reluctantly and a swollen cerebellum inflates it with undue importance. A clitoris remembers it, still pink and flush and waits, wanting the next wave of reverberating pleasure. Hands remember it, soft and probing, smoothing and exploring. Seduction's sweet tentacles in her hair as she took his salt inside her mouth. Tongues remember it. Moist and dancing in unison with the undulating rhythm of their hips.

A stomach in knots, eyes flooded with tears, a chest tight with sobs remembers every single detail and laments the loss.  Remembering is wonderful, forgetting impossible, but with time, will and resignation . . she pushes it back to where it belongs. Experience, history, the past and moves forward, she just needs a little shove.  "You'll live" he said - she feels like dying.

Lifts leaden feet to lighten a heavy heart. Make a move. Stop standing still, locked in a moment vaporised by separation.  But what a moment.  Forgetting will set her free. Remembering renders hope.

A footfall, a slight propulsion forward. She leans into it allowing the momentum to pull her or is it the tender force of his palm on her back pushing her away. She walks from him reluctantly, faux light and freedom on her face, sad liberation in her heart.

"I'll live" ....she whispers. so quietly he doesn't hear, "I will always love. Just time to let go."

3 comments:

  1. very poetic. i don't understand a bit of it. well, maybe the naughty bits.

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  2. "You'll live." Why am I not surprised?

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