the erotic is always honest

we play a game to remember

you love it don’t you?

does he ask to confirm his desire or mine?

whatever the case he’s correct. i love it. the ache. the space. the erotic synapse.

i love the way it taunts me, close but not quite. breath landing on skin from inches away.

he wants me to come.

i want to stay right. here. deep in this field of energy. edging into the fullness of the moment.

you can’t break me.

no man has ever been able to. not really.

he does things i do and do not understand. enters me in ways i'm unfamiliar with probably because he’s being honest when he says i don't speak to impress. i speak to enter.

it’s terrifying.

many men have entered me. but not entered me. not really.

what is the entrance fee? my vulnerability. his. i don’t know where the line is. how much is enough? opening is always a risk i’m trying to protect myself from but i don’t want to do that with him. not really.

secretly i want him to break me.

he sees it. confirms my desire with his words.

i want you laid out and open.
my breath holds.
not to fuck. to worship. every inch. every breath.

all of you.

all of me.

all of me? inexplicable. wordless space. i can’t even write this sentence.

he wants me to come. now i do, too. i let go over and over and over.
as soon as one wave crashes another rolls in.
this coming is emergence.

intellect wants to interject but you already know what’s coming.

coming… there are many ways.

for the uninitiated… a release of energy too much for the body.

for the few who choose this dreamscape… a cultivation of something deep, ancient, timeless. a drawing in. creative process. body. breath. cauldron. open. simmering. simmering. embers heating spine of honey.

i want to show him. not everything at once — a slow unraveling. quiet wildness. i dream he is 100 different men and i dream we are fucking in the grass and the door to the house is open — but the screen is shut — i worry my mother might see. the veil is lifted. mostly.

i’ve done this before but the layers are infinite.

write myself deeper in. feel him still in my system. part of me wants to close the door but the deeper part — the part that summoned him — knows this is initiation. asked for exactly this — a presence to unravel my defenses.

i let myself come undone because safety is a choice i make.

in that choice, wildness comes. shakes herself free from well placed restraint. throws her hair in circles emanating from that luminous spine and becomes awake awake awake.

awake in limbo somewhere. a fever dream. anchor into hips. become light. buoyant. full of rippling, wet and pulsing. the ache shows her shadow. yang and yin. the coin must flip. him into me. me into him.

we play a game to remember this truth — the erotic is always honest.