There's A Fire In this Room - 2/7/12

"There's a fire in this room, but no candles...when the lights are down low, your hips become handles; rapid respiration within my ribs restrains my random rambles. Intimacy can leave inhibitions in shambles...and my hands amble up and down your spine like young kids in the mall with no place to go at all, dragging in certain spots like vowels in southern drawl. Most brothers are out to love them all, and I am too. The only difference is that while they learn hot spots, a grab, a rub, a pinch or two, I'm learning the key to burning every inch of you. Fingertips like matchsticks, the night is ripe for sensory magic. Speaking of touching though, the romance of our ensnared glances is like a passionate tango dance, with our pupils as partners, our attention as the hands clasped, and our bodies as the dance floor that is traversed as though this was all rehearsed. The intensity is so great that it could be metaphorical, though the silence is allegorical, symbolizing the categorical denial of outward displays of such raw, powerful finesse in the design of nature. It's at times like these when sexy is much less visual and much more visceral...when minds become magnets, privates become poles, bodies begin to bustle, and hormones take hold. The experience stretches far beyond the shallow waters of lust...but getting out to the sea of the feelings that lie within us means we mustn't be afraid of the depth of trust. When two beings can be open, mind, body, and soul, they can allow their innermost desires to take control..."

-A. Lewis