Shivers

I'd just like a moment with you, just a tiny portion of your time, but you seem to be lost at sea at the moment.

 

The lovely fickle pirate declared his infinite shyness, and took an unauthorized leave of absence from his posting.

 

So. What's a feisty girl to do.

 

I don't think I wanna seduce you and fall heavily into your arms, not until we've exhausted ourselves, by peeling back the layers of one another's psyche. But, that changes on a daily basis as your mood, affects mine.

 

Even though my body signals inform me that we'd fit perfectly, we'd have the sort of connection that could be explosive, but also tempered with much silence and quietness, the comfortable sort of pausal moments that keep us bound to one another.

 

Graciousness is a beautiful thing to behold.

 

Not so much with my body, but via the heart, purely. Our bodies would merge into one another with such intensity that it makes me wonder how could it ever be deemed wrong.

 

And you're more than just a body connection, you're a pure heart connection.

 

I think I'd like to interrogate you with 20 questions, just to ascertain what embodies you. And during that timeframe, I wonder whether your'd simply plead the fifth on any of those questions, or allow your words to stumble from of your gorgeous mouth, without feeling like you were foolishly digging your own shallow grave. 

 

I'd like to sit close enough to you, with your chair facing mine, side by side, so you and I could maintain eye contact, as I absorb the energy of your presence.

 

I'd closely observe your facial expressions, and the way your body language spoke to me, especially as I whispered quietly into your ear, waiting for your answers as I watch the ways your eyes speak to me, in between those pausal moments.

 

I can't imagine we'd make it through the whole process, and I would hope we didn't because I wouldn't be interrogating you in a manner that'd be incriminating.

 

I think I'd centre the dialogue around your raw desires, and hope for the best, in terms of your ability to explicitly convey the things that kept you wondering, and slightly captivated, about all the times we've chased one another.

 

I wonder, if you wander. Like a rolling stone. You're a man, of course, you must be a wanderer.

 

Much to my chargrin, because I don't get a man that discriminates against a woman that mirrors his behaviours just to enable him to see what it is I see. You know, what's good for you, is good for me too.

 

Unless, of course, you know how to pin me down, and have your way until we're humming upon one another.

 

In reality, I just want to trace your gorgeous lips, and taste the rest of you. Because, all I think about is you, cascading all over me.

 

There's no disputing that, however, there's no pride in hopeless longing without a purpose.

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