tribute to my dark angel....

Looking in those eyes, brown as bark of the cypress tree I planted in childhood. Solid, secure, and strong. Dirty blonde hair that is coarse at his ears and soft in the back, above his neck; long, layered and blowing in the breeze created by our maker.
Breath is slow and simple, with a rhythm not so similar to mine…, no…., its more calm and collected unlike my scattered shallow gasps
He taste of espresso and cigarettes, once in which I despised… now, as delicious as the breakfast I have longed for all morning. Oh, I have waited so long.
Smelling this coffee he drinks inspires me, very powerful and rich.
There are feelings to pursue, but I must not fall. And to tell him of my desire would empower his control. How does he imagine how I could be here? With him? Again.
May this eat me alive, all that I need is here, and now, games of silence are needed.
I dream no further than this. Just Breathe.

Unknown "hotstuff" Daring - 15 years, 9 months, 13 days ago