You asked me,
What do I want?
What do I want?
I want many things
The summation of which follows but will remain incomplete,
As it will need to be filled as my life opens and expands.
I want to look into your eyes and see echoes of laughter yet spilled
To stand on tip toe and kiss the hollow of your throat,
Long and lingeringly.
To hold your hand, finger through finger and sit leaning against your chest,
Lost in your heart beat and the heat of your being.
I want to roll over in the crook of you arm and nuzzle your face giggling,
Licking the contours of your lips, tasting morning.
To rub my face down the inside of you arm
And lay my lips on the tender pulse of your wrist.
I want you to wrap your hands in my hair and pull my head back,
Leaving my neck bare and vulnerable to your mouth.
I want you to ravage every last inch of my neck, leaving me sweating, begging and hoarse.
I want to sit and have tea
and read the Times and the Guardian,
Then eat blueberry muffins soaked in butter,
Naked in bed with my legs wrapped around yours.
I want to listen to the music that makes you tremble,
Feel your body give way to its power,
Whooping or in tears.
I want to sit in your lap, facing you and kiss
Feeling the width and fullness of your mouth beneath mine, molding, forming
Tasting your breath,
Feeling the rhythm of you blood rise to meet me
The sweet tang of passion sliding between lips through tongues.
I want to french kiss until time stands still,
Exploring every tiny aspect of your mouth,
Eyes shut, open, lingering, greedy,
Just every and all.
I want your hands pushing and pulling
My body into positions of embrace,
Possible only in the moment of lost knowing.
I want to hear your breath
Feel your pulse.
I want to feel/see you revel in being alive and aware,
I want re-union.
I want to track and graph to the last peak and valley the contours of your being,
With my hands, my eyes, my lips, my heart.
I want you to ask me for welcome,
To feel your response to being wanted, desired,
I want to writhe with waiting,
To hear my body sing under your touch.
To be suspended
Until there are no moments left.
To feel the tension wind through you,
Like an arrow waiting to be released
To savor the scent of longing on freshly revealed skin
To have you teach me to whisper in the space between us.
I want to live fully what I am learning is my nature.
I want to touch the face of the Mother in our embrace.
I want to let go of the fear of being real,
I want to be loud and demanding and ravenous,
I want to be led and taught
I want to learn,
To know how to be what I see and feel.
My name is Robina D’Arcy-Fox . I am a life long dancer, tree singer and healer. In January of this year, I began to wake up to the sensual being I have always been; this is her voice. I am 49 and counting…dancing the light and living out loud.
Editor: Bryonie Wise
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