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Loss of Intamacy

Intimacy the loss of  

I miss the moment of sharing essence the gap between our lips where we tasted each other's soul.  Energy crossed and created an electrical storm around us.  The discovery of each other. over and over... You smell in this moment and how my skin tingled in every place your fingers drifted.

I miss the vulnerability the freedom to let go entirely and wholly just be.. to want.. to feel.   I miss the freedom of this.  the unguarded nakedness of my being literally, and figuratively.  The wholeness of letting go, forgetting my name and just knowing I am yours.  The safety of this, the release .. the worth of the connection. 

I grieve the loss of intimacy.  The feel of your breath upon my skin.. my back my bell .. my inner leg.  I miss what this means and the privilege that no one else is allowed.  That you as my person get the right to make me tremble with pleasure and quicken with anticipation.  you get me.. all unabashed full of longing that is controlled and not given freely.  Not because of some cultural moral civic code.  but because I don't let anyone into my space. 

Giving of myself is my gift to us. I no longer am able to give this part or receive it in return.  when we touch it causes you pain,  when I get near you pull back ..the ghosts of your past were exercised, however, the scars of that remain in your heart.

I must find my connection with you in other ways.  a touch as I walk by you.. appreciate for an effort toward the sustainability of our house, our love, us.. and yet I crave being a naked soul with you.. left in our energy storm.. our vulnerability .. us, where nothing else distracts or pulls / influences.  


 



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