Closed-Eye Vision

“Sky…”1

My mind jerks itself out of its semi-slumber state at the sound of your name. The pillows and blankets cocooning me suddenly seem uncomfortable, and I shift my position on the bed, mildly irritated at the interruption of the beginnings of sleep. I chastise my rebellious lips yet again for talking to you when my mind is barely conscious, although perhaps my annoyance would not be so great if you were not half a country away from me.2

I sigh heavily, the weight of being without you now coupled with sleeplessness. For a moment, I allow the loneliness to drift over me, knowing it will bring otherwise dormant memories of you. They come, sure enough, and I close my eyes again, reliving the small joys of you. The sun caressing your hair, the gleam in your eyes, the gentle love in your voice… Time seems to become infinite as I lose myself in you.3

“Sky…” I speak again, unwittingly, but I remain beyond the awareness of the world outside my mind this time.4

“Hi princess.” Your voice is rich, warm, pure, like fresh homemade fudge. Delicious. My eyes remain shut, but I sense the glow of your smile, those radiant blues that I so love: light and cheerful, yet still deep and devotedly loving. I know you’re here.5

Your weight falls on me gently; I can’t help but smile. The warmth of you flows from your body to mine – your fire fuelling my tired soul. In silent acknowledgement of your affections, I feel your soft lips press mine, gently, slowly, then punctuating the moment with a hint of passion. Words become superfluous now, as they always seem to around you, and I hold you tightly against me like I will never let you go again. 6

As if adjusting to the darkness, my closed-eye vision reveals you to me slowly, first with the light of those dangerously blue windows to your soul… then the sweep of your hair that I have so long wanted to run my hands through again… your utterly kissable lips… the broad shoulders that wrap strong arms around me. Logic implies that I must be dreaming, yet here you are with me, and I am thankful no matter what the circumstance. No longer fatigued, I take my time to explore you, fingertips tracing familiar skin as I peruse the pages of your soul like a favourite novel. You whisper words I cannot understand, but the emotion remains, strong and sure. I pull you still closer, hopelessly entangled as we are, and forsake all speech for the eloquence of movement, of touch, of feelings that no mere words could ever express. 7

My lips replace my hands as I trace the patterns across the flesh I know so intimately, that houses the undying spirit that I have been irrevocably linked to since the dawn of time. I tenderly celebrate your form, celebrate us, celebrate life itself and all the simple joys of lips against skin and hands that explore and seek and learn. Warmth prickles across every over-stimulated, blissful nerve ending in my body. For a long moment, our eyes meet, exploring in a way that is as spiritual as our adoring kisses are physical. I wish – if I could wish for anything at this moment of near euphoric reunion – that I could exist inside those amazingly expressive blue eyes, and see through them, feel what you feel, think what you think, and learn what is essentially you, what I only can grasp pieces of from the outside. Yet the thought passes, for I know such knowledge I will earn in time, and will value all the more for it. I have a lifetime to learn your mind and body, and thousands of them to learn your soul. For now, I fulfill the urge outwardly, exuberantly, taking pleasure in your pleasure, loving your love, matching my small form against yours as a beautiful piece of the eternal puzzle. 8

We dance as oak and ivy in the wind, as the light on the moon with its shadow, as the dual stars do, feeding each other’s soul and spinning dizzily, dizzily in that infinite pull that craves complete fusion that cannot exist but in that one moment….9

I dream. Yet so much more than dream. I love, I believe, I seek out the spirit that calls to me as I lay here dreaming.10

And by starlight, under the moon’s watchful eye and the bending boughs of the ancient forests, we dance.11