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8
~ Sublime Silence ~

I stare at her mouth as she licks her dry lips. Her eyes sink sweetly into mine as her hand moves up and caresses my cheek, her soft thumb decoratively moving across my cheek in slow, even strokes.

“You’re like a poppy,” she says. Her voice is almost a whisper.
“Once picked you become instantly vulnerable.” I just stare at her, and tilt my head slowly into her palm.

I know I’m vulnerable. It’s like an instinct, or impulse. It just happens. She affects me greatly, and she knows it.
Her affects are both positive and negative. Loving her is killing me, but I’d die if it meant she we’re happy.
By the smile that slowly spreads across her face I can tell she is happy,
so I don’t tell her this. I don’t say a single word, I just leave things as they are, because I realize, for once I, too, am happy.

I smile, more to myself than anything else, as I lean forward, placing my hands on her neatly folded knees.
My eyes quietly close, as do hers in response, and I brush my lips across hers.
Her sublime sweetness fills my mind, frees it, and erases all thoughts I once had.
We slowly cascade to the soft grass beneath us, her fingers curling in my strewn about hair,
as her breath moves across my clavicle.

I don’t feel anything but bliss. Absolute, inaudible, bliss.





 
 
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