It is in solitude – always in solitude – that the guard of my masculine nature and identity ebb. Then, my genderless awareness of my humanity fully unfolds. It is then that I feel her presence most powerfully: when the prolific psychic residue of the ‘motion in stillness’ that she embodies lingers. The words ‘intuitive’ and ‘aware’ do not even begin to describe her effortless yet omnivorous understanding, her brilliant tabula rasa mind, and her remarkable capacity for profound tenderness.
In the wake of feeling her gentle yet phenomenal presence – and the subtle but unmistakable void of her absence – my apartment looks exactly the same to the naked eye. But whole new, transcendent worlds have been birthed from our symbiotic visceral reciprocity.
Our always-immanent metaphysical attraction seems to be taking the course of our lifetimes to evolve into something more carnally fulfilling. If our sexual expression ever equals the intensity of our exquisite rapport, we will both be willingly consumed by an ever-expanding concatenation of exuberant, balls-to-the-wall stamina marathons of athletic eroticism.
Tonight, she held me cradled in her lap, ensconced in her impossibly comfortable curves and silky soft skin. With sensitively skilled fingers, she unwound my stressed muscles in a masterfully knowing massage that was an extended foray of deep-release bliss for me. Beyond tension relief, it was an overall amelioration of my well-being.
Her instinctive talent for nurturing is as inexhaustible as my own need to be so thoroughly nurtured. It is a powerful reverence which bypasses romantic notion: the unconditional embrace of the Cosmic Mother. In truth, no one had ever held me as compassionately and adoringly except for my own mother, and that was a distant memory from many years ago.
Delicately, she broke the sweet spell of our shared silence by gently kissing my forehead and saying only, “Namaste.” (This translates roughly as the light, or the highest good in me salutes the light, or the highest good in you). It was a simple gesture and a single word that nonetheless felt like the fruition of the covenant of the holiest of Holy Grails.
Feeling starry-eyed and consummately relaxed, I slowly roused from the altered states that her extended healing had induced in me. Propping myself up on my elbows, I then turned to face her. Then I leaned in to meet her in an eyes-wide-open, serenely ravenous and lingering tongue-kiss. Many mind-blowing moments later, she broke the magnetic connection of our osculation by touching her fingers lightly to my face.
In a sultry tone which did not belie her seriousness, she said, “When we have more time, we will do far more justice to this. If I possessed the skill to alter the time/space continuum – and the unforgiving rhythms of our earthly lives – I would have you with me for hours, days, weeks, months, years… into timelessness. Until then…”
I held her to me and finished her sentence aloud, saying, “Farewell is never goodbye.”
