Sunday, June 26, 2011


For a week we sat only a breath's distance apart, watching people we then hardly knew bare their souls - and a magnetic fire was sparked among us all. The honesty of the room, the fear, the intensity, the pain, the trust and hope all fueled a like minded flame.

And then one night, over a glass of wine, in a crowded penthouse bar it was as if nobody else was there, we talked quietly. I was nearly shy and still thinking of you after you left. It seemed you perhaps were thinking of me in such a way. Other forces had played with our senses that day.

The delicious flavors of an overwhelming week were made more powerful by the sound of your voice behind me, the surprise of across-the-bar eye contact, the thinking and contemplating an emotional deduction. The touch of your hand on my back walking through a door, and a wine influenced dueling flirtation that spun into tangible seduction.

I found myself intoxicated by not just your smile but also your story. And wrapped in your arms not so innocently dancing to the sounds of an old school crooner, I would not resist. I warned that I could fall in love with any him. And then we rested, enchanted by a memory of earth shifting elevators, passionate conversation, the tender ache of touched sunburned skin.

And in the morning when the sun re-claimed the day, it all seemed so very perfectly ridiculous.

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