Rosemary and Rue | Love That Glides Ten Times Faster Than the Sun's Beams

To hell with the world, to hell with the cold house. I don't want to care about everything, anymore. I just want him with me - in this moment.

Nothing else matters but this.

Photo by Klara Kulikova on Unsplash

They sought each other's lips with the ferocity of the shipwrecked seek the shore-less a kist.

She was lost, isolated and tossed about by what happened. It was a reclamation of the long-lost lovers they were. Returning to a version of themselves that existed before what was rightfully theirs stolen by time and society.

It felt like a homecoming.

Breathlessness turned into shared breath where they were joined in shared capacity, breathing for each other in an unconscious rhythm.

The messy, tangled reality of their past was stripped away. Leaving the complicated social and emotional constraints in a heap upon the floor - unbuckled, unhooked, and unfastened.

Naught remained but the cool air that kist their skin. It was such a terrifying, beautiful thing to bare oneself like this - vulnerable but unburdened. They rose to meet each other for shared warmth - like a tide rising to meet its moon.

All the static mess in his head finally made way for his longings: her. He wanted to leave all those noises behind and began to trace her skin with his lips as if rememorizing the geography of her body.

He smoothed away the distress inch by inch to overwrite the neglect she had endured with new, physical sensations. Slow and tender.

He felt her sharp shudder the moment his lips met her neck. He moved lower, treating the hollow of her collarbone and the curve of her back with a reverent focus, his warm breath on her neglected skin.

Shivers rippled through her at each searing graze of his lips. Her body hummed in response.

How fragile and how beautiful one could be in this moment of total abandonment.

Liquid warmth, thick and heavy as her desire for him, suffused through her, moving from the points of his touch to her very core. Her breathing heavy... lost in the sensation he was creating.

A total physical and emotional release.

They were throbbing, weeping with the wait. Desire had long since stopped listening to the mind's logic.

It was their primal urge: to lose themselves in one another. To finally get their lives back together in the only way they knew how. Entwined.

Every last bit of caution was thrown to the wind. The fragile barrier they'd worked so hard to keep just ceased to exist.

That night, their heated urge left no lines uncrossed.

It was the inevitable collision of their orbits - a total surrender to some long-stifled law of nature. Flaring into combustion, they were consumed by a darkness - deep and sweet.

In that feverish closeness, they lov'd, as love in two; had the essence but in one; two distincts, division none.

©Britt H.

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