Love letter # 116
We live in terrified times so I find this hard to say. When I noticed you – wet and salty on the beach – water tracing lines over your incredible form – glistening on the synthetic sheen of your bathers – I was too afraid to look. I felt that if my gaze should linger not only would you know – and judge – but that I would find myself reaching out – hand seeking the sheer electric of you.
There is nothing complex about this – just hunger. A raw recognition. My civilised demeanour – my politics and perspective – they have melted at your feet. The smell of you – your proximity. This is want I want. You may have a chemical power over me, but honeypie, let me tell you … I am more than willing to submit.