I wonder aloud about how crazy I am. With each blink of my eye her image appears, and with each renewal of sight I feel the urges born in the softness of her touch, the taste of her lips, the scent of her being wafting through the open air. I can feel her hand in mine, the way her breasts press against my chest, the way her hair feels in my clenched hand as I pull her harder onto me. There is, standing by the heat of sexual desire exploding all around us, something much higher holding the flame against the holy fuel of this passion. I need her, badly, and not just as the object of my body’s desire.
What insanity is this? What angel has sown the seeds of mortal craziness within the confines of my liberated soul? What prayer has been answered that will surely throw me into a pit of pure fire?
I don’t just feel this throb in the familiar place, I feel it in places left dormant by my journey’s effort. An uncertain song has been replaced by a sure mantra of hope as the frosted chill of winter has been transformed into the warm breezes of spring. A voice within urges caution while another urges me to jump headlong into the fire where I will not fall to burn, but rise to fly as a flaming arrow through the air.
There are moments when every cell in your body challenges every cell in your head, when the spirit within begs you to throw yourself off the cliff even as the mind begs you to caution. There are wings on us all, somewhere, often beaten back by time and circumstance but who spring to life when we simply jump outside of that thing we call “comfort”. We deserve, at least once in our life, to fucking give in to the truth we feel instead of the truth we’ve learned. We deserve passion, joy, truth, honesty, loyalty and liberation all packaged neatly in the frame of someone we simply can’t get enough of. We deserve to know heaven.
We deserve to be insane sometimes, to cater to the whims of our soul rather than the chains of our thoughts. We, as beings in love with all of who we are, deserve to be loved not in fingers that snake between our own, but in the feeling we experience when our skin meets. We deserve not to be slaves to the kiss, but to the pleasure that kiss provides. We deserve to know ecstasy, over and over again, until the sweat drains the very life from our bodies and offers it as a gift to the moonlight surrounding us. We deserve to know each other there, and we deserve to simply say “fuck it” and jump.
Ok, a breath. A sigh. A deep exhalation releasing the absolute desire welling up within me. In this swirl of certain insanity I relish the way it makes me feel. Not as a slave to fear or to regret. Not as a man chained to a some whimsical idea of what should be, but as a spirit flying high above what was once but no longer needs to be. I want to be free, and I want to whisk this woman away beyond those places that have created the scars she touches in the moments when her heart beats loudest. She must volunteer, and once she steps forward the wind will pick us up and we will soar high above this place.
For now, I will rest with the voices and the uncertainty that is my certain insanity, speaking as nothing but a dream intertwined into the fabric of my own reality. It’s a great ride, the watching the firmest bedrock set into its permanent place. Soon, someday, the wind beneath me will feel equally firm as we rise above the clouded earth we’ve known. Silent prayers are uttered by the chorus within me even as the flesh responds to the warm remembrance of what brought me here. For that I am very grateful.