Wednesday, August 30, 2006

A LETTER TO THE ONE I DON’T WANT TO ADMIT I WANT TO LOVE AND WANT HIM TO WANT TO LOVE ME BACK



Promise of Spring
By C. Pacheco


WORDS TO CLEAR MY THROAT:

What if I told you that every time I’m near you I feel like I never learned a thing? You make me want to pull my heart out of my chest again and lay it down for your to explore. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt my center rise and my core as bright blue as the hottest flame in a dark room.


THE POINT:

I want to hold you with my eyes closed, touch your beautiful hair, smell your golden skin and bring you into me – over and over again.
I want to exhaust myself at the end of everyday for over-loving you.
I’m sure that it would be reciprocated. I have a place for every part of you. Your sweat dripping into my small valleys – there’s a dry part of me matching every damp part of you. You arrived like a thunderstorm, uninvited and surprisingly. So, rain hard on me. Demand your thunder to shake my earth – your lightening to strike me more than once. This humid, sticky essence of your entrance brought green to my grey.

I can’t explain all of those silly little reasons that I feel this way. I’m just drawn to you like dew to a thorn. And even if it means yet another pain of heartbreak, I want to lay with you and feel what it could be, in my mind for this moment – if only for this moment.

Please be him.
Rub your body around me as we dance to deep, slow rhythms and make me want it.

You can make me wet with longing. Kiss me where I’m raw, sore, tired – where tears swell and my body tickles. Give me your mouth and sip on my sweet, hot tea for a while.
I want to show you my words, my most open – my most honest – and I want for you to play with them between your rough fingers. Swirl the o’s in your index, tickle the x’s, dot my I’s, squeeze my e’s and push down on my g’s with your green thumb. Grip my sentences and hold them up against your warmth. Then give them back reinvented, like new full-bloomed dewy roses from your garden.

In the deep purple and blue hours of the night I want to awake with my body lying over you - lethargic and trusting. Let me sleep cradled in your thighs and dream of all that you could be.
I will dance for you – undulate my body, like you are the dry shore and I am the full moon’s tide.
I want to rub you, feel you rise - pumped full with blooming gardens of life and a promise of spring.


Your lips are ripe and high above the sea – ready for me to dive deep into yet another abyss - this deep blue bottomless wetland where I never catch my breath.
Come close to me, up against me. Feel my damp chest slipping against yours – I am squirming and not wanting to give in. Make me see in your eyes that I am but a young girl again, remembering my innocence.

Though all of this is like over-saturated sweet syrup poured in lumps into milk, just bare with me today as I finally am waking from my winter’s slumber. I am grateful for the possibility of you and it makes me rise in the morning and look toward the sun.

Shine over me. Bring me your heat.
Make my flower bloom in your orange, hot and humid dawn.

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