~Love Notes As I Toke~

She wrote me a love note,
how she wanted to reveal herself.

In this note she told me,
how she wanted to undress herself before me, adore me, allow me to know her,
in her infinite array.

She asked in such a delicate and inviting way,
that I leaned into her fragrance
and allowed her tongue to reach into my chasmed disorientation,
my emotional insecurities,
and allowed her to know me,
in the softness of my melancholy.

She wished to wander into my pain,
and touch
and tug at me,

unfold me, and lick
and whisper into my truest-self
the nature of all wisdom,
the heart knowing no boundaries in its capacity
for a compassion built of loving and uncondemning insights.

Her lips were gentle,
she said,
and wished to kiss me,
through my defenses,
nape and naked moaning,
to hold and shuffle of my sadnesses,
and to reveal her inner-self,
a gaping moistness,
to both mother and love,
and find her satisfaction in,
with me,
in our arms,
in her evening.

I lifted up her letter and held it to my face
and never knew a moment,
before or since,
except to be within the honey of her sweet scented flower;
the opacity of transformation has become a blindness to my burdens,
and she is the answer to my Dreams.