I heard her say it: When hope is all you have left, all you really have is hope. So said the woman who'd never been there, never lived perched precariously on the edge of that cliff. The truth is, when hope is all you have left, you really have nothing. Continuing on...Once you reach the point where hope remains the one constant in your existance, the commodity quickly becomes more than you can afford. Like the grand house on the hill, the dream car, the luxe furnishings: you can reach out blindly, stretch beyond your limits, but you'll never quite reach.
I get lost in the innocence of a first kiss.
Sometimes the most random of lines in a simple song are enough. I found myself lost deep in thought at the red light of a freeway on ramp. A horn honk from the frustrated man behind me in the shiny silver suv brought me back to reality. But I can't stop thinking about the spell that first kiss casts over a relationship. A man once said to me, "there's no second chance at a first kiss." Words so powerful I remember them, cling to them, allow them to wrap me tightly and take me away, all these years later. It was low, husky, matter-of-fact and it was intense.
And the moment? That not-totally unexpected, do you want me as much as I want you, first kiss? On a warm spring mid-day, in the midst of a tranquil field, sitting on a picnic bench watching the world go by and thinking of nothing but the sun on your shoulders and the splendor of the impending moment. Lips soft and gentle, yet a little demanding. Mine yielding and soft. The thoroughly masculine scent of soap and aftershave. Feeling the softness of a cotton tee shirt tight across his chest and bulging biceps as I run my fingertips lightly across him. Listening to the low slow moans of pleasure derived from finally breaking the anticipation to taste someone new, someone different. And when it was over and we could both step back and blink, breathe and think... he said to me, "such a nice mouth, I knew it would be." And I was lost once more in that moment.
