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    The Mere Idea of You

     

     My Dearest Bette,

    I am here now naked to show you all that I have lost, tangled between this life and the next. Yet you stand there unaware of my sorrow. Nothing lasts forever that we can be sure of…

     

    The music you gave me spoke volumes of the words you’ve never had the courage to say. Or maybe it was I who lacked the courage to hear? Either way fear got the best of us. It was always meant to be simple.

     

    One day you kissed me and the world as I knew it became extinct, you became everything and I became anything you needed me to be. Do you remember that night? The night you pushed me onto the bed and told me to spread my legs. The wetness between an apparition of how I would give and give and give myself to you. If only to feel that moment when your whisper made the hairs on my neck stand. A breath the crescendo of a moment lived.

     

                                               Did you love me?

     

                                                     Did I love you?

     

                                                             Or merely the idea of you?

     

    No matter really because this isn’t about love…

     

    This is about you and me and this bed. I have lost myself in your moment. Your hands upon my breasts meandering down my valleys, uncharted territory for hands like yours. Your lips follow suit and I am again lost in your light. Your lips press against mine and we dance for a moment as your hands continue their discovery. Our bodies move as shadows in twilight. Sleepless renderings.

     

    Do we exist?

     

    Or are we just floating specks of dust, entwined in a moment larger than ourselves? My hands roam your back searching for the answers. You push inside of me. Between lapses of heightened ecstasy and silence.

     

                                                          “I love you”

     

    The silence is often louder than the breath escaping our lips.

     

     Forever yours,

     Tina

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