Gentle Everythings

A subtle sway in your hips and a 200 yard stare that betrays just the hint of a lazy, sexy day dream. An unconscious bite of the lip and a sultry smile. Your soundtrack a warm spring breeze.

I may have never set eyes on you before, but you are telegraphing a private intimacy like a beacon. You are making time to a quiet thought, whispers of skin grazing skin, sweet nothings and gentle everythings playing out in your lovely, distracted mind.

Your spell is like cool water quenching a mighty thirst. A beautiful purity to the nearly impure story you are weaving. A truth here, a fiction there, a dash of desire and just a pinch of naughty. I cant read the words, I cant make out the players, but the moral of your story is radiant. Or should I say the immoral of your story?

I would trade my fortunes and my tomorrows for just a glimpse of what has you so enraptured, has you so lost in each delightful detail. It’s lust and love and hopes and hunger and I see the power of your self-written seduction in the language of your body and the slightly bashful laugh when you catch yourself.

You, this warm spring breeze and your private day dream.

A gift to simply witness. Maybe its a dream of me.