Forever waits upstairs

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  • Passion
  • ,
  • Love

    Forever waits upstairs

    I have this night playing in my head; a night that has never happened.

    You and I come home. Our home. It doesn't matter where we have been or what we were doing. As we walk in the door, you kiss me. I know what this kiss means. It's the kind of kiss I can never turn down. I can feel all your longing, all your heat, all your passion for me. It floods my mouth and pours deep into me. Deep into my soul, into my body, into everything that I am. I want you now, in this moment, more than ever before and more than I ever will again simply because of that kiss. That kiss that tells me that you want me the same way. In an explosion of color and feeling, our mouths have met and have yet to separate. Your lips, your tongue, your mouth consumes me. Your hands first embrace me, then explore me and carress me. Hold me, touch me, bring my skin to life with a tingle and a desire to be touched again. Needing you more, longer, all over me, again and again. I don't want your hands to leave me. I don't want your lips to leave mine. I want you. You. Inside me and around me and all over me. Take me, breathe me in, consume me, surround me...promise we will be the same and I will never have to be without your touch again.

    After stumbling, entwined, devouring each other, we make our way to the stairs. We pause, just long enough for you to look into my eyes. They burn into mine and you tell me you love me. I am yours. I kiss you with all that is in me, letting my love will itself into you through my mouth. Somewhere I manage to tell you I love you, too, and you lead me upstairs.

    Upstairs, where we will spend what is an eternity to us, but may only be one night to the world, loving each other in every intimate way. Worshipping, holding, belonging, needing and wanting only each other. Making love, sharing moments, sleeping wrapped in each other's arms...all of it one beautiful event in time and place, just for us, meant only for us. There will never be another night like this, but there will be other nights. Other nights that cannot be measured or compared. Other days that are so uniquely powerful. Other moments that are ours. Mine and yours. Yours and mine. Forever and for always.

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    Poetry comes nearer to vital truth than history.

    Plato (BC 427-BC 347) Greek philosopher.

    Bluestarboi’s Poems (5)

    Title Comments
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    Forever waits upstairs 0
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