I dream of your hands. Licking your fingers and palms, smoothness gliding inside of me, teasing. I dream of you, with me breathing. Your hardness against my softness; your solidity immersed in my fluid. Softly, softly, rocking together. Dappled sunlight dreaming of you golden. Cannot remember you never not knowing me. Inside. Tasting your strawberry tongue, your cherry lips and your caramel words. Sighing. Love you so much. Needing. Colour flashing through my closed eyes to blind you with their resonance – quicksilver. Me, moon, transmuting your brilliance to create my own soft light, like blood. Emerald shouting beauty for me alone – halos – your eyes – ringed with gold. Drowning.
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n: vb: the spice of imagination