skin

Within my second skin

I am yours and you are mine.  Skin to skin you take me: slowly, surely, completely. I give you everything I have, and all that I am, and then I give a little more. A little more that even I didn’t know was there.

I am the same, but altered: naked; bared. You find a crack and somewhere, somehow, sometime, you slip within my second skin. I am not aware, so lost I am to myself by then.

I feel the warmth though. It reaches across me, heating me, caressing me, filling the space until I am enveloped by you. Every nerve and sinew is touched and bends in response. Slowly and surely you fit yourself into me and over me and on top of me.

You massage your way into my very being until you have become me. When I think, it is your voice and when listen, they are your words. I am me, but you are me, and it feels unlike anything I have ever felt before. I should feel less but I don’t.

I feel bigger and stronger and more powerful with you there. I feel that I don’t care and that I am not important and yet, I am the more significant and more valuable than I have ever been. I am the sum of all that I could be and the echo and the promise of all that I was and will be, all at the same time.

And despite the fact that cannot be, it is.  It is simple in its purity and in its completeness. It is you and it is me and it is what we are. We are one. We are you. I am you. You are me. It makes no sense and it cannot be explained but it it the most real thing I have ever known.

It feel like truth. It feels like something that would always be. It feels natural and essential and innate. I slip deeper and deeper into the freedom and release that you give me. You hold us there, as one, and that moment becomes everything.

Within my skin you can see me. You see things and you love them and accept them. You want to be there and by being there you want me. The desire to be this and only this for always takes over and we become one, skin pressing and joining, scratching and ,caressing, marking that moment in an eternity which is only ever ours.

 

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

 

 

Posted in Creative non-fiction.

14 Comments

  1. This is absolutely stunning, Missy! Your love is so pure, so intense, so beautiful. And, I couldn’t help but read this and think that this is exactly what my relationship with Master T is like. I can’t imagine being without it.

    Rebel xox

    • Aww thank you. I wondered about writing it as poetry but felt it wouldn’t flow so I went with a sort of poetic prose ?

  2. This is so beautiful Missy! I agree about the poetic stance. I first saw the post over email and thought it was a poem until I came to your actual post and yet it still has that poetic feel to it. I love it!

    • Thank you Kurvy. I am glad that you liked it and it made sense. I quite like playing around with images and writing in a less prosaic way sometimes ?

  3. I am reading this right after your post about Writing, Missy, where you talk about your discovery of poetry writing. This was a perfect follow up piece – a stunningly beautiful example of your prose poetry writing abilities … nj … xx

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