by Navaeh Edwards
(10/22/08)
Bath water has gone from lukewarm to cold. Tiny goosebumps dimple my skin, now cool to the touch. A half glass of Diet Coke sits on the porcelain ledge, warm from the steam of running hot water. It seems an eternity since it has been touched. The warm glow of the candles paints soft shadows on stark walls, though their dim light does nothing to satisfy me.
I miss you.
Beside me lies a novel, its spine cracked, pages furled. In the past, this author has soothed me, often astounded me with skillful words. At times stinging me with jealousy for the writer I long to be. Tonight though, the pages are like windows and the words barely reach my teary eyes before they are forgotten. I trace the spine.
I still miss you.
The air smells of sadness; raspberry bubble bath, lightly scented candles mixing with their own smoke and the remnants of the chicken stirfry I have no appetite to eat. The soft pitter-patter of a drum and the sensual vocals of a woman in love rise above the splashing as my fingers dance in the water, trace patterns across my rounded belly. Her voice, once able to fill my ears with meaningful words, now echoes wordlessly in the back of my mind. The song reminds me of you. And.
Still, I miss you.
My fingers weave patterns on freshly shaven legs, down my thigh, brush circles around my knee, follow through to narrow ankles and along painted toes. In my dream, your fingers have traced this pattern before.
I shiver helplessly, rippling water as it swishes upward, over my chilled breasts. Shivering from the cold? Or remembering your last kiss?
I close my eyes, bite my lip. I taste the sweetness of your mouth left over from what seems an eternity ago. My finger traces the shape of my lips, lightly tickling, stomach aching as I long for your lips on mine.
I remember gentle caresses, your mouth as it carefully moves from my lips, down my neck, across my chest. The water rises around. I sink further into the tub, a futile attempt to give heat to erect nipples. Water blankets my body and I feel your mouth gliding over my breasts. The heat from your breath warms my chill but the goosebumps remain.
Beads of wax drip down the sides of the candles, already half gone. Their flames flicker uneasily, shadows dance on the wall. Reminders of my loneliness, my desire to be with you, my longing to feel your touch.
I smile, recalling our last moments together. My heart races. You are painting pictures on my naked skin. Eyes follow your fingers as they run gently across my face then up and down my legs.
My hands move to my stomach, cover Big Macs, French fries, Diet Coke and chocolate. I see your smile, hear your voice while you whisper comforting words. I am helpless to your touch.
A gentle gasp echoes in the hollow bathroom as your hand slips between my legs, rubs softly against my flesh. I smell you. Your naked skin evokes a mix of body oils and raw sex. It rises above raspberry bubble bath, drifts into my nose, lingers, teases my senses.
You kiss my neck, feel the slope of my chest. Cool lips run down my body, trace circles on my stomach, leave patches of tingling skin. I'm covered in goosebumps, but I'm not cold.
The music has stopped, but my heart fills the silence with the soft thump of a new love song. In the dim light, I cry out your name, gasp in surprise as heat from your breath blows between my thighs. You kiss the inside of my legs, pause, daring me to protest.
My hips lift to meet your wanting mouth. My body rises out of the water, then sinks as your mouth presses against me. Your tongue flickers like lightening -- tasting, exploring, loving.
My hands brush against your forehead, fingertips fluttering through your hair. Water rises and sinks like crashing waves as my hips rock gently to meet your tongue.
Another gasp. A soft moan. I whisper your name, beg you to continue.
Love funnels through you as my heart pumps life in through your mouth. Gentle. Tender. Your touch weakens my shield. Your lips tug on mysteries I am still afraid to solve. Your tongue explores unfamiliar territory. I am not frightened.
My legs close, hold your head between them as my shoulders lift out of water. I want you. Your tongue moves faster inside me. A moan escapes. I miss you.
Hips move swiftly under your mouth, your tongue still caressing, my heart knocking, my body arched and ready. I love you.
We move faster together -- your mouth, my lips, our hearts. My voice is a scream in a silent room.
My body thrusts boldly into your face as water splashes violently around me. My head snaps backward, my breathing deepens and like a tidal wave, pleasure surges through me sending trembles into my heart, up my spine, down my legs.
The room is silent, the water cool. My candles flicker, their flames die. I open my eyes to darkness, realize I am alone. I whisper your name -- but there is no reply.
Alone. I miss you.
