Here, There

The small bead pressed against the mound of her clitoris. He rolled the smooth and round ball over the tightening vessel. She broke against him, loosened from her body one fraction before she retracts; as a wave onto the shore, the edges of her being fell over his in an awakening; that forgetfulness of form carried them onto the sofa.

"As one drop this rain fed the root of my spine, and I, now more awaken, more livened, can step further from the bough and harbor my scent in a bottle."

"It will crash through walls and shake the sky. There is little to contain if not the wind of our minds, this breath already passes."

"Oh, union of senses! The breath inhabits none, the breath inhabits all: it is no more a limiter of time than that of the iron in our blood."

"Push onward now and return to the base sense of mortality, this is nothing, the invisible world of void and shadow dreams too far from this field I hold you, too, as the night moves perpendicular to day."

"Loneliness presses people, solitude taunts their substance; there, that the temptation for contact, charges them headlong to live in boxes with strangers."

"Friction creates heat and the bodies too closely packed flair personalities and discourage calm thorough thought."

"Feet on the sidewalk deafen the canals of ears and the heart beats too close to the throat."

"When nervous I feel the pulse in my sternal notch, it calms me, to know that my heart beats when my mind detaches and searches outside the room for respite. With the first two fingers of my right hand I count the push against my fingers."

"The sense in the fingers is not of the organ, nor the organ of the fingers, but that which is perceived lies in their union."

"My soul lifts and before making its journey across the firmament it moves between the mist and between clouds."

"I press a small bead against the raising notch of your clitoris as the first two fingers of your right hand touch the base of your throat and you shutter against me."