not a dream, a memory…

Dear Gentle Sir,

We met again in my dream last night. (It’s been some time.) Pressed tightly together, wrapped safely in your arms, we kissed. Your lips and tongue caressed mine with a passion so sweet I wanted to cry.

I realized long after waking, while walking with tender thots of you, that our dream-kiss was an echo, a memory of where we once were together: a first time of a certain kind that awakened a hunger in me I have yet to satisfy.

Beautiful man, sweetest of lovers, you make me sigh.

Dreaming Awake,

Lola xo

(not so) easy to forget…

Dear Gentle Sir,

The first time I saw you naked, I wanted to climb you with a compulsion monkeys must have when they see a tall, glorious tree. I wanted to taste you in mango-sweet ways as one must suck and lick and test and devour divine succulence.

The first time I touched your barest of skin, I gasped.
I hope you always remember this fact.

The first time I saw you naked, I was already wet; every fold between my legs had been begging me to spread – they wanted you to hear how lovely your name sounds springing forth from inside me.  I was already saying “yes” to every dream you had.

The first time you touched me, I lost my breath.
I hope you never forget this fact.

Yours from the Beginning,

Lola Moi xo