I’ve missed you.
How does life get so busy? The days—one after another—pile up like a stack of blurry Polaroids on my desk.
“There isn’t enough time,” we mutter, citing tiredness as our half-assed excuse.
But that’s a lie. And we know it.
There’s no time?
Let’s make some. And after that, we’ll make love.
I want to stop, freeze-frame all the madness—and zoom in.
I want to create something beautiful.
I want to stay up all night tangled in the sheets, our bodies covered in sweat with smiles gracing our glistening faces.
The soundtrack will be laughter and our heavy breaths, the moans we make from the careful caresses we sweep across each other’s skin.
The setting will be home. Simple. A candle or two.
I don’t need anything else. I don’t want to be wined or dined. I just want to play, laugh, and be close to you.
I want time to lose all meaning—as our lips meet, the clock stops. And we are so in the moment that we become braided into each other, into the pulsating fibers of the universe itself.
We will rise, we will fall, with the glowing neon filaments of euphoria. We will gush like water and undulate like the ocean, like a supple belly dancer’s stomach.
‘Cause I don’t need anything fancy. I just need you.
The wildflowers in your hands—they’re perfect.
Set them down on the kitchen table as you lift me into your arms and our cells crash into each other.
Let’s make a date.
I’d like to spend time getting ready and actually shave my legs. I’d like to wear something slinky that makes me feel sexy and womanly—and dab on lip gloss and my favorite sweet, mysterious perfume.
After many busy weeks, after being everything, after going here and there, doing this and that—we need this.
Our love must be nourished. We must be fed in this way.
Skin on skin, hearts beating wildly, lips locked together. Our tongues can be paintbrushes that flicker in the starlight as we finally—oh, sweet finally—let our bodies relax and melt into the delicious truth of what we really want.
To be close. To be seen and touched and held and known.
We cannot let this sweetness fall to the wayside just to complete our to-do lists.
So, clear a space. Meet me tonight. Say, 7 p.m.
Let’s say we’re going to cook dinner—but instead, I’m going to kiss you when you walk in the door.
I won’t wait.
I want you, right away. Before anything else.
We need this. This moistening, this addition of fresh, juicy life back into our love—back into our bones, our spirits, our lives.
Connection heals, and as our hands join, our bodies sing out and rejoice.
Our chests may still feel weary and armored, but slowly, we breathe together and let it all peel away as our hearts bloom to take another shape. And tenderness—oh tenderness, we so embody beautifully.
Everything else fades away. And it’s not that we leave anything behind, we simply enter into a parallel universe of just you and I.
You twirl me around and set me lovingly on the bed. I caress your face, then get fierce, becoming the tigress I am.
Touch is joy.
Without nourishment, this love withers. And so do we.
We need this.
So let it all go.
Exhale the week away. Let it blow like smoke into the sky and become a cloud that tucks behind the moon.
Be enraptured in me, in you—in magic. In love.
Let the softness of this love carry you through it all.
And sure, we’ve got his crazy, busy life where we’re both trying to pursue our dreams.
But we have each other.
And that’s what makes it all beautiful.
So kiss me.