Tell Me "Love"
You'll wake up and speak a word that will whistle like the wind till it reaches the ears of the next person, the person next to you, and bounces off, an echoing of sound that will settle down and sluice through the canal till it hits nerves like lightning, shocking the system to the point that what was a whisper sounds like a peal of thunder. She'll roll over, all fire. Starting in her breasts, the fire will leap to her eyes and set them ablaze. She will rise above you, straddling you as if she were pinning you down, her hair obscuring her face like mists covering mountains, not to hide the majesty but to pronounce it, to increase the allure. Beauty in the tangle. The only beauty. "Are you saying you love me?" she'll question playfully, precociously. "I wasn't saying otherwise," you'll answer with a smile. And the fire in her eyes will spread to her lips, which, feeling the need for company, will stretch to meet yours in a kiss to set desire a-burning.
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