A Quirk of Nature
This quirk of nature has no definition, formless.
Boundless, yet gravitation it pull us together.
Ties that bind in chemicals and sensory receptors.
The limbic system, amegdela, primal carnal.
Holding no preconceived notions form whom we shall yield it up to.
Lift up our cup to allow,
Lips of attraction to drink to their contentment whether in short sips or hurried gulps.
Finding delight in quenching another's (our own) thirst for this liquid.
Revealing the fulfillment for another.
Allow that person to wrap themselves around me in their fog.
Spinning a cocoons of comfort.
The telling factors that bring us near one another, close enough to offer a taste.
Maybe those soulful eyes forelorned and distant,
with the embodiment of a truer self held deep in the liquid black pupil.
Or the curviness of eyelashes undulation around bony prominence.
Or perhaps it is parted lips engaged in conversation.
Maybe the tousle of hair tilt of the head.
Gestures or logic and analysis.
Could it be the way they are a loner, perhaps we would like to capture that wolf and tame it.
Fullness of their laughter and lightness of spirit only shown in a moment of intense humor.
The particular way they speak a word or leave something unsaid.
For their audience to be left guessing.
Perhaps it is the thought of whispered words between two in a passionate embrace.
The want to have a cheek gently touched.
Or maybe it is not that at all.
What if it is a quirk in their persona, an inconsistency in their demeanor.
The lack of coothe the need for social etiquette. Mischievousness in a smile. A wounded warrior in need for solace and repair.
How an explicative may fly forth in excitement. Or the need for someone to tell the they have something on their chin.
We offer to one another
These drinks these quaffs of intoxicating acts.
Reciprocation is desired.
Copyright © Amanda Simcox | Year Posted 2005
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