not so much emphasis on size, here.
just...lack o' bra.
100% Irish linen, thrown over my swimsuit.
swimsuit gone.
just shorts and this.
hair drying in springs and waves
cheeks glowing with sun's kisses
wanting to feel strong hands pushing that shirt up
buttons popping
lips on neck
shorts shimmied off
skin against skin
fast and hushed--
in a walk-in closet or a small bathroom,
as voices from the rest of the immediate world lay muffled outside our panting groping haven.
these are the times when I wish I could walk far enough, wish hard enough--
and find a zipper, haphazardly sewn across the horizon.
I could open it and step through,
finding a patch of time, just waiting to be used.
I would step outside my own reality and make adventures,
independent of this life--
not before, not after.
just...separate.
I would find you, and share it with you.
have a fantastically beautiful day--
and don't mind me, I'll just be imagining the finer details of that little fantasy-tangent from above...
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