Meeting in Senses.

The Waiting. 

 

Eyes scan the platform, darting here and there, scoping strangers, frantically searching for him. Winter coverings move of their own volition. No face registers awareness. No face searches her soul, for none is he.

The train pulls in at last, new coats alighting, no recognition in the sea of movement. Left and right, garments hurry by, beyond her interest and eyes.

Then she sees him. She knows him. She has always known him. Every coat around disappears and there is only one face…..looking directly at her.

 

The Meeting. 

 

Movements speed up while time dwindles to nothing. An endless approach, eyes never leaving eyes. Distance enlarges and diminishes. Keeping two apart. And drawing them closer together.

Without warning, time returns to normal measure. Then launches into overdrive, the two racing towards one another in hurried footsteps that seek to end the waiting.

In seconds, only two exist. One to one. Eyes drink eyes for the briefest of infinite moments, acknowledging the other soul. Hands reach out, hers to touch his face. The kindest face she’s ever known.  He allows this exploration for just some seconds, knowing her need to touch his flesh, to admit the understanding. His hands then reach to clasp her head and draw her to him. He breathes her in, recognising her scent as a long known drug from other years. No more delay. Lips meet. In hunger and knowing. They begin to devour. To consume the other. A taste of honey draws two closer still. Nothing may keep them apart. No sound exists but rushing blood in the ears as circulation escalates to building pressure.

A gasp apart. A wildness in the eyes. The anxious, endless lifetime of waiting is over.

 

Knock and Seek

I move through rooms,        

Through different doors

On different levels,

Different floors

Of consciousness

In flightless mode,

Testing ground

On different roads.

Tapping surface just ahead

With sightless eyes

Within in my head.

Earthly tremors

Make me shake,

In moors of mire

I do quake

And flounder,

Drowning, gasping air

For evil monsters

Hide down there.

They grab my legs

And pull me under,

Spirit, mind

Are torn asunder.

Hands reach out

And pull me up,

Then offer me

The golden cup

To sip of life,

Not gulp so fast,

To savour it,

So it may last

A lifetime of

Exploring meaning,

Cherishing,

While also leaning,

Heavily,

On others’ might,

Struggling less

With what is right

And wrong

Or bad

Or good.

Implicitly,

They’re understood.

Some doors are locked

For my own sake,

May open when

Sleep does take

My soul to

Regions unexplored,

Found by some

And so, adored.

If I knock

And no one comes

I’ll figure this

Is one such one

That hides its truth

For later days,

When, creaking,

It will open wide,

Revealing treasures

Now to hide.

Through this mansion

I explore,

Tapping each

And every door.

 

 

X-Rated

Breaths combined, eyes locked, allured,

Inches far apart,

Rising tide of wanting,

Neither one may start.

 

Passion builds with waiting

And heated hands do twitch

Reach out to touch, envelop,

Take fever to its pitch.

 

The look now broken by a thought,

A glance away to press the urge.

Look once more into the soul,

Feel the aching surge.

 

Now lean to kiss, the slightest touch,

With promises of more.

A tantalising taste of honey,

Shivers to the core.

 

And all at once, the dam has burst,

And hunger’s needs are met,

Falling to the rising tide

And drenched in wettest sweat.

 

Assuaged, the delight, the fascination

Ought to be abated,

But longing looks and lustful thoughts know much more

Will come. But that has been X-rated.