“I’m swimming forward, through a current of warm woodland air, finding a sensation of shallower water as my legs reach down and my bare feet touch the cool, dry flagstone floor of the tower.”
“He doesn’t seem to sense my descent, nor my lightly weighted footsteps as barefooted I slowly approach him.”
“There’s a summer breeze rustling through the treetops, and the sound seems intimately changed now that I’m above them.”
“My eyes sense the strength in his physique, I’ve felt him like no other, from the tender touch of his open hand, brushing against my skin with no more weight or might than a falling autumn leaf.”
“Else I’ve felt myself softening from within, melting inside the wrap of his arms, his whole body binding me to him, grafting my skin to his, the open pores our naked skin glowing, bleeding light, breathing out, breathing in, our heartbeats syncopating, finding inner peace and calm inside the weave of our connection.”
“I know his body, his blood, flesh and bone an extension of my own, his contours carved to house me, and me alone, for I fit inside his frame like no other, and fuck, when he opens me, and he fills me, fuck he fills me until I’m full, feeling him everywhere.”
“And then his physique changes. From fragile innocence and a confusion of inner light, until he forms a fierce and commanding, demanding and iron hard demeanor, claiming me, his to own.”
“His gaze remains fixed, facing out to the North, he hasn’t turned his attention to my approach, and yet I sense he knows I’m here, standing beside him, my white flowing dress gently billowing in the breeze, the warm summer air caught in our hair, I join with him to look out, wanting to see what’s holding him out there?”
“Do you know where you are fox?” He asks, and my tummy bursts inside, a million beating butterfly wings flapping to the sound of his voice, an audible mix of tones, velvet cherry liquor and dark chocolate, a rich delicacy, not too sweet, nor too tight, but balanced with an inner confidence, power and strength.
“No” is all the truth I can manage.
“You’re in my dream” he says earnestly. And my insides beg with wanting him to turn and look at me, I want his eyes, I want their light reaching inside me, I want him to feel the light in mine.”
But he remains removed, his gaze focused and facing North, an invisible divide seeming to keep us apart despite my arriving at his side.
“What do you see when you look back there?” he asks, his eyes reaching way off into the distance. I’m unsure, and growing desperate inside, wanting to follow his train of thought and find meaning. I look again to where I think his focus is reaching.
“Is that someone on the canal?” I wonder, catching a glimpse.
“Yes, yes it is, and can you see who?” His voice soothing me to find the courage to ask the same question.