I’ve never stopped thinking of you.
I know that–after years of empty promises, cancelled rendezvous and treating you as some sort of dirty secret, a shameful affair–my words probably feel hollow.
But it’s true–you’ve never left my mind.
I wanted to come to you, yesterday when you called.
You didn’t have to say anything. The electrical current that began as a tickle of nausea inside of my stomach, pulsating through me and weakening my defenses–let me know that it was you.
Succumbing to the seductive tease your presence awakened, I planned to sneak away last night–to find you.
To give to you my body–my mind–abandoning my higher thoughts and submitting myself to your demands.
Until, lying in my bed, security placated my passions, squelching them with promises of comfort, ease and a life of certainty.
And now I’m afraid–terrified–that, tiring of my games and refusing to remain in second place, you’ll leave me, giving yourself to another.
Another who–when you call–will risk everything for the intimacy with creation that is found in your embrace.
