Sensation

If I listen very hard, I can hear her.

She's lying in my bed, and by the sound of her breathing I'm not sure if she's asleep. It's hard to tell, with her. She's always in such perfect control - except, of course, when she's not at all, and then she's passionate and wild, sensual like a stalking panther. Even when she's all reserve and ice, her public mask like a wall between her and the world, now and then there's a look in her eyes that makes my blood burn. I don't think anyone else notices, can even see it - it's subtle, but smoky sex is in that true-blue gaze and I always have to stop and catch my breath.

If I close my eyes and concentrate, I can taste her.

She tastes of cinnamon and steel, narcotic and addictive and intoxicating. Her lips and tongue are red-hot ice and without the drug of her I almost cease to function. Her skin is salt and metallic tang, smoother than silk and soft against my mouth.

If I look from the stars before me, I can see her.

The dappled light paints her in ebony and chrome, skin silvered in starlight. I drink the view with a wanton desire that surprises me with its rising intensity, and know that before long I will return to touch again that magnificent body, and pay my homage to my conqueror. She is naked and beautiful, somnolent, sweet perfection.

If I look away again, I can smell her.

Her hair is sunlight and spring rain, her skin is lazy afternoons and old, brittle roses. If she walks past me at parties, I still smell the scent of her and conjure nights of the passion we share. She lingers in my smile, in the warmth I can share with a world that seems less real for not being part of her, and hangs in the air of these rooms to tell me I'm not alone.

If I do nothing at all, I can feel her.

Her arms wrap around me as she kisses my hair, offering without words the solace from solitude we both of us crave and neither of us dare admit to anywhere but here. I do not look around, and she does not expect it. Her eyes, I know, find the same stars I watch and look out unreadable. I tremble. In silence her touch finds the places familiar to her. They soothe and excite and soon she is supporting my weight because I cannot. Breathless she carries me back to my bed and drives away my demons with the power of her smile.

If I live, I must love her.

25/7/99