How
can I tell her how I feel?
How can I tell her that
her face is ever present in my mind's eye?
That is where I seek her and her beauty overwhelms me. I sit and stare at her for hours and cannot
look away. I suddenly gasp and draw a
deep breath and realize that I've forgotten to breathe. I'll notice that my heart is racing and I
feel the flush in my face. And then I
stare at her again.
How can I tell her that I
want to breathe her in and never exhale again?
I long to know her scent and to smell her on my clothing long after she
is gone. I need to breathe in her sweet
breath moments before I taste it for the first time. Just one breath and her aroma will be so
familiar that every other scent will pale against her fragrance.
How can I tell her that
she consumes me? The fire in my soul
yearns to burst forth from my lips and from my fingertips to inflame her
passion. She burns so brightly for me
that the mere touch of her fingers would scorch my flesh and leave me in ashes,
to be scattered at the will of her breath.
How can I tell her that
my lips exist only to find hers? The
anticipation of true love's first kiss haunts my dreams, the first touch of
tongue waiting impatiently in fantasy.
They seek her in dream and in caprice and when they find her there, they
drink deeply. These same lips that may
utter nary a sound but to speak her name.
How can I tell her that
it is more than my arms that are empty without her? The softness of her body held close, the
fullness of her breast pressed to mine, the merging of spirit with the merging
of flesh, the sweetness of her touch at the back of my neck, the ecstasy of my
fingers through her hair, every movement forming the chimera of my existence.
How can I tell her the
depth of my desire? Our bodies entwined
so tightly, I cannot tell where hers ends and mine begins. The touch of her velvet hand as she guides me
to her, beseeching warm acquiescence and finding blessed penetration of body
and soul. The gentle motion beneath me,
the most caring stroke above me, the tender embrace enfolding me and the sweet
release of essence as one.
How can I tell her of the
swelling of lust that overcomes me? Raw,
unbridled obsession igniting passion's flame, burning to the breadth and depth
of my soul. Desperate need surpassing
want, intense heat overtaking warmth, teeth leave their mark, nails blaze a
path, the furious piercing of engorged flesh by enraged longing, savagely
driving to fierce crescendo and violent, convulsing eruption. And in the quiet moments after contented
collapse, I will love her.
How
can I find the words to make her come to me?
I have nothing to offer her but would give her everything. She is destined to step from my
fantasies. And when she does, what will
I say to her? I know not the words,
except for these…
I love you twice as
much as I did yesterday. And yesterday,
I loved you so very much.
Published 2009 in Dear Fantasy Girl...
Copyright 2009 by Lyle James Parson II
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