waiting for this…

I’m not writing a postscript when I look into your eyes and say “yes.” I’m not begging for fantasy when I let you watch me cum, my throat exposed to the steamy air we share. I’m not seeking the dark when I run my fingers through your hair—my every exhale a shiver of light.

I’m here. I’ve been here all along.

an unquiet one…

an unquiet one

Being adored… and feeling it.

Being wanted… and seeing it.

(It is possible… here in this moment, now.)

Being desired… and knowing it.

 

This is the pleasure beyond lust.
This is the hope beyond what has passed.
This is the glow in my eyes when I look at you.

Yes, at you.