It's almost as if I couldn't deny him a night together, or then maybe what I experienced never existed. The logs in the fire cracked and shifted, and without any hesitation I turned my head and puckered my lips.
A portal of images flashed through my mind. His mouth tasted of whiskey and lime juice. Hands were rough like sandpaper. Goosebumps coated my skin like protective armor to all the visceral sensations that were seeping through, and I felt closest than ever to my reflections of truth.
"Are you cold?" He stopped and said to me, as I noticed my fingertips were quivering on his cheeks.
How could I be. This fire burning between my heart and my stomach, a smoldering burst of energy and flesh surging from within me. I quickly turned back to look at the fire. The flames continued to dance in the same way I felt. My memories of us together were waltzing in my head. The prana from his lips, lingering on mine, seeping like raw honey, a sweetness between us that reminded me how I am very much alive. And, maybe if I just hold onto him a little together, when the morning light rises above the horizon to wake us, he will still be here.
So, I laid my head down. And redreamt the scene, until I woke up again
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