twilight and us, 1

For A.

*

We are here, by the water's edge, a rhythmic blanketing of our feet with ripples that soak in the colors of the sky - violet, watermellon, juicy orange. The air is noisy with birds, insects, distant hums, but it is silent of voice and people. In this moment, it is only your breath I hear, and as my eyes drift from the water and the sky, it is only you I see.

Time feels lazy, the seconds pile one on top of the other slowly, with a deliberate collapse and merge, an elevator of puzzle pieces. I don't know how long we've been sitting here, but each second longer adds a drop into the charged air moving between, among, and through both of us.

Our fingers are touching, more and more entwined, a wild summer vine that tangles and grows just where needed, just where it is supposed to be.

I smile and lean my head against you, cheek to your shoulder, and it feels like the natural state of things, as though the breeze just toppled me into you with such grace and purpose that nothing would dare shift us away from this exact pose.

Except, that is, for passion.

We both feel the electricity beneath our skin and between our thighs escalate at the same time. We lean back without a word spoken, letting our hunger navigate, and the awakening twilight frame us as silhouettes who cannot handle one more moment without tasting and feeling and being and fucking.