9/4/12 12:25am
in and of itself
she glides her finger-tips across my back.
it’s done in a manner so graceful.
it’s as if to say she could make them walk on water. i want to speak out and guide her to the spots that would give me instant sensation. i refrain from sound though.
i do not dare to disturb her wordless strokes.
the caressing sucks up all of the stress and nuiances of today becoming yesterday.
then before i can come to learn her patterns she’s switched to shorter; more accelerated circles. all the while finding the dips and grooves of a back made weary by the weight of hours. i come to appreciate my silence.
her motions that feel random are calculated;
full of precision that she might not be aware of her self. she’s telling me without words where it is that requires attention.
it becomes harder for me to differentiate whether or not two hands are working.
trying to count fingers in constant motion proves difficult to do. before i can get a number it’s over. her hands return to her side. a new pattern in and of itself.
i can feel the goosebumps returning.