We are not together–
were we ever?
Can you call it together when
our bodies spoke for the entirety of our beings?
I loved the way your capable
arms moved me where you wanted
tossed me into a pile of sheets
scooped me from myself
and into the intense illusion of “us.”
These arms that my gentle figure
felt so safe in,
yet my heart felt so not.
So afraid to love you fully
for as soon as your hands loosened their grip
you were gone.
Vacant—so obviously lost
in the deception of our devotion.
I loved the language we created with our lips,
my lips at once willingly familiar to yours,
and the wildest of discoveries—
still I have never been kissed like that.
And still I can feel them part from mine
and your heated breath floods
like steam to my mind
clouding my intuition
So that all I felt was the warm,
syrupy residue of you,
ignoring the detachment so much larger
than your flesh.
Until I couldn’t ignore any longer
and neither could you.
Until our hands slipped apart
and we could step back,
clothed again in our fears
and the wicked truth of our far too omnipotent desire.
Until there was enough space to
feel something far more sensual—
we continue to collide outside of our bodies,
inside of our hearts and minds
and my spirit felt as my lips once had.
This is how I want to be with you—
all of me.
Undress the finest details of my truth,
Collect with your own sense of
self mine, and caress my soul
with the same sweetness you would my skin.
My heart is less tender for fear,
My mind more clear,
and my body less an object to lose yourself in,
but a vessel to find more of me.
We are more together here,
And I love that.
Author: Tiffany Anderson
Editor: Yoli Ramazzina
Photo: Flickr/Casey Muir-Taylor