Saturday, September 25, 2010
A rainy month in Aalborg.
"You're the manifestation of my sexual desires.
It's hard to trigger all my buttons at once, but you take a baseball bat and smash the remote control.
You are so erotic..
You're dreamy..
You are noble, Fay.
Strong, defined.
Dignified, noble and confident.
You are probably out dancing to the raingods for their grace
or you are sitting, debating the world with a lovely drink
or you are enjoying redwine alone.
Regardless of what you are doing, you are not here.
And that is fine.
You are mine."
When you get that look...
The dangerous one, the predatory one, the one that paralyzes me as I can feel your desire and your lust pulsating, reaching out for me.
When you claim me and I feel the world spin out of focus to only leave the fire of your breath, the delirium of your scent and the rhythm of your body.
When we dance.
