Tranquility

the serrated mountain-tops cut the clouds in the distance, as if reaching through the cottony white for the skies above. the mountains are a dark band, laid against the pale blue skies. the snows are melting, exposing the darker rock beneath. nature has a way of making me feel very small, and you have a way of making me feel big again. snuggled against me, your head against my shoulder, we sit quietly, looking at the vista around us. the silence speaks a thousand words, each word whispering a different story, and a different time, of you and me. a smile plays on your lips, loving the solitude here, you and me lost in our own world.

at this high altitude, the panorama is heart-stirring. far below us is a long, winding road, stretching out on both sides as far as the eye can see. i know at one end of the road is this old-fashioned bakery, with little scones that melt in your mouth, and hot breads that line the windows, filling the air with their freshly-baked scent. we sat on the wooden tables outside there yesterday, watching the pats of home-made butter and fresh honey trickle down the slices of bread, and gobbling up mouthfuls. then, you fed the squirrels and birds, while i regaled you with silly tales of cats and dolphins who were friends! and as we ambled along the road, i picked you fresh spring daisies that grew in clumps, pretty against the verdant green of the grass and the trees on one side, and the grey and dusty dirt road on the other.

running along the road some distance away is a clear brook, coming straight down from the mountains, as it trickles and ripples over the smooth white pebbles which make the stream bed. it's early spring, and ice crystals still bespeckle the sparkling water, catching the sunlight and splitting it into a myriad rainbows. i snapped away with my camera, as you sat among the rocks there, alternately pouting and giggling with glee. the tall mountains looked upon us silently, benign smiles from their crags and cliffs, it's almost as if we seek their approval.

your lips are hungry against mine, your tongue alive. i breathe deep, and feel you filling me, completing me. your hands are in my hair, your eyes close in rapt bliss. the bunch of daisies lying on the rug bear witness to our passion, their yellow eyes smiling at us. i trail a white petal on your cheek and trace the little dimple there. i raise myself, and tease your lips with the petal. the velvety softness of it raises goosebumps as slowly it skims against the soft white skin of your neck. i reach down to kiss the goosebumps on your chest, as they run wild. once again your hands are in my hair, but this time, they're asking, urging. you exhale slowly, almost afraid that the moment shall escape, but you know that it shall forever remain in memory.

later, we lay back, recovering in each other's arms, and look at the logs making up the ceiling. dark grain running one way, lighter the other. your head on my chest, as you snuggle tighter against me, pulling the dark blue fleece blanket around us. a slightly fruity whiff of your shampoo in the air, and the musky heat of two bodies in earnest conversation. i reach down to kiss your forehead, as you turn to look into my eyes, a look with a million thoughts of an eternity together. you turn around, and reach up to me, and i taste coffee on your lips, coffee with a hint of chocolate, just the way you like it.

again at night we sit on the bench, huddled together as the slight breeze still bears testament to a winter just passed. the curving crescent of the early moon wan against the striking view that unfolds in front of us, paling into nothingness against the radiance of your happy smile as you sit here, ensconcing yourself in me. white stars far far away, grazing like sheep on the black velvet of the night's sky. vapour rises from the cap of the thermos, and as you sip the coffee slowly, the puffs of steam from our breath entwine into one, wrapping this moment into yet another timeless memory.

The Room

a butterfly smile flits across your face, hovering above your full petal lips, sipping delicately from the nectar of your tongue as it writhes around mine. it's hot in the room, and a slight flush creeps slowly from your cheekbones down to the curves where your jawbones disappear deliciously towards your neck. an idle hand plays in your long straight hair, sliding down the loose strands straying across your face as the fan gusts warm drafts chasing each other round and round the room. you look at me as we kiss, your kohl-rimmed eyes boring into mine. the eyes of longing, of a hunger that cannot be sated by the mere meeting of two lustful bodies. a thirst that will not be slaked in this life or the next. a want that became a need.

you love it when i tease, you need it almost. you look almost homely in my old white school shirt, the top two buttons undone, and nothing underneath. i pull off a long black hair from the shirt collar, and run it imperceptibly over your cheek. you flinch gently as it tickles a trail over your face. you impudently nip at my ear lobe, and whisper throatily "spank me, i'm a bad girl!". i laugh at that, while you lift the shirt tail and lay across my lap. you turn around to look at me, wiggling your curvy bottom saucily, and i can't help but laugh even louder! you want it real bad, i can see that, but i'm not gonna give it to you! i have to stop laughing eventually as your greedy lips find mine and we roll around, a white shirt and black boxers in a tumble dryer.

we live like two bohemians in this room, the once-whitewashed walls are now covered in swathes of red, blobs of yellow, words of black and clouds of blue. we make gentle love, drink dry chardonnay and i paint sunflower fields at sunset. we go at it like animals in heat, smoke camel turkish royals and i paint alice in chains lyrics. at night we light pine-scented candles, imagine ourselves in a forest with the star-spangled night sky above for a blanket, and watch our shadows intertwine with wispy smoke trails on the walls. we eat raspberries dipped in vanilla ice cream, that stain our fingers and lips red. i play with creating red stains on your creamy skin, and marvel how different cool ice cream tastes when slathered over your hot sweaty belly.

and when you cannot take it any more, i hold you by the hair and yank your head up to kiss your lips until they turn blue, and your moan turns into a hoarse scream. in the corner where two walls meet the floor, sitting on the couch, standing against the door and lying on the rug under the window where the sun rays pour in to herald another dawn. who would ever want to leave the room?

Journey, redux

i'm sitting here on the upper berth, back against the divider, feet up on the empty seat adjacent. i haven't sat here like this since the last time i was here with you. it's been over four years actually. somehow i can't shake the memory, seeing you stretched out lazily on the bunk. the emotions it provokes are still strong. they make me feel as if i've been an accomplice to a beautiful crime. and despite the four years past, i can still see your sinuous curves curled up on the seat, head resting on my lap, and your hungry lips pouting, wanting, needing to kiss me.

there is a certain comfort level to intimacy that you reach after a time, when nothing is hurried. its almost lazy how slowly we touch each other. you look at me coyly, wink then bite your forefinger. you're such a temptress at times, pulling it off with such innocent naivete. i trail a naughty fingernail down from your gentle chin, the curve of your creamy neck, to the hollow between your collarbones. a small sigh escapes your lips. i exhale there gently, and your arms scissor around my neck and pull me down.

i look around the train, and nothing seems to have changed. same seat, same windows, same food and drink being hawked. only one difference though. i've changed. maybe you grew up quicker than i did then, but now i've moved on, moved up, moved to better things, i hope. i remember something i wrote a while ago:"you're only as good as your past allows you to be. the past means nothing if you don't learn from it. my past means nothing, for i have learned nothing. it's been a bittersweet discovery that i am what i am, and that's that - nothing changes."i'm not sure i still believe that.

your hands are around my neck, pulling, asking, desiring. you raise your head off my lap, and there we stay, staring into each other's eyes. no doubts, worries or cares, its just you and me. the world comes to a sudden standstill, and the train's side-to-side rocking ceases to exist, as our lips meet. you play with my earlobe, as your tongue darts left and right, flicking and running away from mine. my finger traces little figure-8's on your flat belly, and that flips a switch. your teeth mash against mine, as we kiss, hard.

the bunk is small by any standards, but it seems desolately empty now as i lie here, alone, staring at the rivets in the ceiling. the sheets are all railway issue, plain white with a single blue stripe. i remember the cream-colored bedsheet, with little blue and green flowers, as we lay under it whispering great intellectual debates and matters of environmental importance. my heartbeat feels louder with your head pressed to my chest. i play with your little ringlets, little wild ringlets. i tug at one and your eyes fly open in surprise. there's mock outrage in your growl as your mouth comes up looking to bite. instead i grab your head, as we kiss, again.

i don't know how long we lay there, under the sheets, giggling away to my inane (insane?) jokes like a pair of perfect potheads. perfect pair, ah yes, that's right - we were the perfect pair. you are a drug for me. without you, i start craving for you. with you, i am as high as the skies above. and with too much of you it dulls the rush. interesting. with your chin on my chest, you look at me. you're gently mouthing the words to eric clapton's "you look wonderful tonight.." my ears strain to catch your breathy voice, and i close my eyes, hearing the song. a little later i open my eyes and i'm still here, same bunk, same train rocking, but there's no you.