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The second hand on the clock ticks, ticks, ticks away.
Father Time, make it stop. Keep me in this moment. Hold me in this place and time the way his arms hold me now. How long?
Sensations prickle all over as he runs his thumb lightly over my shoulders and down my back. A steady heartbeat sings to me as my head rests on his chest. He’s so swarm, so hard, so safe, so beautiful. The scent of him makes me dizzy. My whole body worships him, aches for him, even now as our legs lay tangled. How long?
I’m home in his arms. Please stop, clock. Please let me stay a little longer.
Where do I end and he begin? The most delicate flower, so intricate, so complex, doesn’t compare to his beauty. His eyes, more dazzling than the darkest rose. His scent, more intoxicating than the honeysuckle. His beautiful skin, more exotic than any lily. The power he wields over me, more potent than the poppy. How long?
I lay bare before him, more than skin, more than flesh, all of me open and exposed, every deep and secret part of me, my soul, my heart. How long?
I’m lost in his arms. Please stop, clock. Please let me stay a little longer.
When we come together we become one. We burn hot. When we turn away, magnetic polarity ensues and an invisible force comes between us, pushing us apart – life, yesterday, tomorrow. The world dims. I become numb, a pile of cold ashes. How long?
The second hand on the clock ticks, ticks, ticks away.
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