Across the room, he
stands a little in the
distance watching her.
His face detailed
by an emotion that
his mind has not
yet named.
She can feel the warmth
of his stare on her cheek
she looks up and steals
back to his stare.
He barely sees her..
It is only desire that
he is registering.
+Actual and Imagined
Turning her gaze openly
to his.. he scans her face
for evidence of truth.
Her longing for him was
less raw than his for her.
his eyes never deserted
hers..
He takes her hand in
his and she feels the
supple strength, the
firm possessive
reassurance of his
intentions for her.
-Flushed! .. she raises
her eyes to his, resting
his forehead against hers.
-It is a moment of the
purest intimacy.
He smiles into her
eyes, then bends his
cheek close to hers
to whisper her senses;
I just want to touch you.
Nothing else. I just want to
know the truth of you.
.. Reclined before him
unseen by anyone, he lifts
the hem of her dress.
His fingers persistent,
determined against her
flesh..With the power
and sureness of touch
that only true desire
can bring; and She melts
in the exquisite rawness
of his touch.
. It was like someone
crossing a line..
This is what he longed to know;
the truth of his response to her.
It is this that is the invention
of love.
As he yearns to touch her
once more..
Yemanja
