Two lovers converged in a dark emerald wood

Two lovers converged in a dark emerald wood

And the fork in the road led to the ocean

The dock opened up to the swirl of the the rain and the world

And the night was caught in lips that caught each other.

And the warmth of my wrists that carried a spark

Through the roots and the firs towards the house with the key

That we knew the secret hiding place of.

The counter was cool and the bannister felt like satin- like skin- like supple fingers trailing down my stomach

In the cool dark cavern that was A Place To Ourselves

In the deep high fever of my wanting for him

His wanting for me

Wanting each other.

Two lovers converged like hail falling on hail, each drop pop jump was a coupling- an embrace in the hallway on our way to the bed-

and the end of the night

under pillows of liquor.

And the swatch of vanilla fire fizzling thickly on my thumbs my tongue and my swaying feet

And the quiet fast happiness of a Beatles song

And a sloppy fast slowdance

And kisses.

Rush gave way to rush

Breath gave way to touch

And I stroked his back like I needed to

Like I cared that much.

And he felt it.

In the cabin in the storm in the night in the jagged sickness

He felt it.

And that made all the difference.

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