Tempest...Caress...

—Quiet tranquility as the storm passed; releasing physical manacles of the past threads, a new one to be spun— touch upon an innocence, a drop of seduction upon the way, blood, soft, red, hot, like her-his body, travel and explore the wide, and untasted regions with a caress, hand, or tongue, to roll, and run little beads of sweat upon golden skin, in moving darkness, upon sheets made of grains of lust, soft and grating, that strokes against the skin. To unbind my hair, and let the breeze have its way, let nature have its course with me, and take as much as it dares —Before I let another have me— failing to comprehend that we take, to give, to taste and refine the uncouth. Naivety of my youth, Intoxicate, with the wine of sensuality—of a new day; knowing I wanted to commit a sin— I shed my clothing and offer myself willingly; is this not a wonderful sacrifice, to rise with the dawn, and sleep with the moon, —To fade back into the sea to rise when the moon and the sun make love— I swirl around, relishing my freedom.