All I ever wanted was to be touched by someone who could actually touch me.
Someone who could put their hands on me and radiate magic with me. Someone who’s presence I could feel. Someone who’s power radiated with mine. Like the hum of a bass line, and the stroke of the drum, someone who would sway and dance with me.
He would wake in the morning and be sitting in the kitchen, drinking the strongest coffee and breathing in the dawn when I joined him, wrapped in his sweater. There would be a smile at the side of his lips at the sight of my wild hair and bare feet on the cold autumn floors. He would pull himself begrudgingly from my kiss on his way out the door to work, his boots only half tied so that he could taste me just one extra time before eight hours apart. My baby would get lost in thoughts of our tangled breath in the midnight during his lunch break and tell the boys that he couldn’t meet for drinks tonight, because he was taking his lady out. He would pick me up and I would be wearing that blue dress he loves, my hair long and my eyes full of magic for him. We would go and listen to beautiful music, and he would ask me to dance in the middle of the it all. The hum of the bass line surrounds us, and the world falls away as we press together. Suddenly, we are in the woods beneath the trees we so often escaped to, and they are blanketing us, dancing in the cool autumn wind. We are dancing in the light of the moon that sneaks in flashes between the high draped limbs that promise to keep us safe from the rest of the world. His skin is on fire next to mine, and the glow of him is second only to staring directly into the morning sun. His light wraps around me on the forest floor and he washes over me as smoothly as the sweet wine we sipped as we cooked dinner last night in our tiny kitchen. He tells me the story of us again, and then reads to me from the book of his dreams, filling me with his hopeful, quiet heart. Confessing to my lips as his priest, he bows our bodies and I have no choice but to worship him the way I was born to.
This morning I sit alone, wishing for the woods again.