spoon dream.

drunk. pardon me. an old journal entry. in my quest for catharsis and final release, i've decided to put this out there in a more permanent, however personal, space. get it out.

We're in my car at night, driving along the PCH. After several prolonged moments of hesitation, I finally reach over and take your hand. To my surprise, you return the favor, lace our fingers, place them in your lap. Your other hand caresses mine, and the warmth spreads all over.

I smile.

You smile.

Lean in and kiss me on the cheek.

Neck.

At a red light I turn to you. We kiss.

A car honks.

Several times.

Finally, we come to and start driving again.

My hand is still on your thigh, holding.

Not too firm, just enough to savor it.

But you take it and move it closer.

Up.

You start kissing my neck again.

I can barely focus on the road.

My hand moves.

Freely.

Up.

Down.

Soaking in every inch it can.

Even closer.

You sigh.

It warms my neck.

I sigh, too.

And now your hand is touching me.

I almost veer off the road and you laugh, lightly.

I feel it. It echoes.

You whisper, "Pull over."

There's light traffic and no shoulder; I have to wait for the next beach-front parking lot.

As soon as I push the gear to Park, we're kissing again.

Touching again.

All over.

You start moving over to my side.

Gradually, at first, finally pouring yourself into me.

and then you climb, gripping onto my shoulders, the back of my neck.

Everywhere.

Suddenly, you're on top.

Clumsily, I find my seat lever and lean back.

But I want to be on top.

To pour myself into you.

I straighten.

You hold me closer.

I accidentally press you into the horn, which goes off.

We laugh.

"This is a little cramped," you say. I agree.

I tell you, however anxiously, that the backseat collapses; not meaning to be presumptuous.

You smile, peck me on the cheek, and carefully cross back over.

Hastily, I get out of the car and throw the backdoor open, throwing the backseat down and climbing inside.

I rearrange things; I wasn't expecting a backseat visitor.

You laugh again, join me, put me at ease.

We meet in the middle again.

Move again.

Freer.

I feel all of you.

I give you all of me.

I want you so much, even that millimeter of fabric between us is suffocating. Restricting.

We remove every barrier, piece by piece.

Every sensation grabs me; I can feel every molecule in my body, restless.

I become overwhelmed.

By how much I want to feel you, how much I'm feeling, how much I want to give to you.

I shake.

You think I'm cold.

You hold me even closer, tighter.

Every time I feel your breath, I'm reminded of how alive you are, how grateful I am for the Big Bang that made you, brought you to me. Here, now.

I almost don't want to finish.

I could be happy feeling like this forever.

Feeling you like this.

But I know that if we don't, I might explode.

And we'd be missing the joy in every beginning.

So when you exhale one last sigh, grip me tightly and release, we finish.

I stay on top a little longer, feeling safe in your arms, between your legs, everything together.

Your eyes are closed as I kiss your neck, ear, everything within reach.

I rest my head on your chest for a few moments, feeling your heart. The rise and fall.

I kiss your stomach.

Caress everything so delicately, afraid of disturbing even the smallest atom of your perfect design.

I carefully move to the side - I'm not sure if you're asleep.

I rest an arm across your belly, the other supports your head.

You open your eyes, look at me, smile.

I kiss your smile, it kisses back.

We're naked, no blanket in sight, but I'm warm.

You turn over so we're spooning.

Your head rests right on my shoulder, you lace your fingers with mine and hold my hand on your stomach, my other arm you hold across your chest.

I breathe you in.

And we talk.

Everything I've never told anyone before, and the same goes for you.

I share thoughts I normally would've been too ashamed to confess.

We sleep awhile.

It's raining.