Love Letters

Mademoiselle,

Time zones shape our love. They warp it. They knead it.

Like I need you.

If the story of our love so far were a play in 4 Acts, the program could read:

The North Atlantic

The North Pacific ~ Glengarry Highlands

~Chorus~

Glengarry Highlands ~ The Caribbean Sea

The Caribbean Sea ~ The Alps

~Chorus~

The Alps ~ Frenchman’s Bay

~Chorus~

The Alps ~ The Coral Sea

Intermission

The Coral Sea...

The audience is still waiting in great anticipation for that final act, my actress and peer. The Act currently in performance is of course The Alps ~ The Coral Sea, but it is on its final scene.

But for this Act, I was always living in your past. You would rise and wait for me. I would wake to your words. I woke up to those words-on-a-screen with such delight, forgetting they were not you. Sometimes I would wake so early, that our clocks would somehow mesh. Yet most nights you would fall fast asleep, and I would go for dinner. Then I had the sly advantage, of creative time while you dreamed. I would write you words and words and words; each poignant and so sweet. Alone harmless, but together strong, I liked to think they could fulfil you. But words are really nothing more than tiny vessels for emotion; continent to continent; sea to shining sea; emotions crossing entire oceans to get to you.

The next morning, as the sun rose over your Zugerberg, you would find me in your office. And while you tippity-typed on your keys all day, sound asleep I lay. Over and over the process would go, each one's night blending ceaselessly into the other's day. The cycle is still very much the same, now in this penultimate Act, but the course of time reversed a major role. Twice the time between you and I points to a considerable loss. Windows closed and blinds were tightened. Our times rarely meshed. Now I am the future, living on the new day.

But I am not as stoic as you. Nor as Heroic. Elephant eyes tire early, and I would leave you waiting for her. The other lover, with quick moods. My other life, spent romancing the Sea. Our words became necessity. Communication and material facts. The emotions were still there of course, but the vessels' stores could not be full, when carried across such tumultuous seas.

So please, my vixen, accept these words. It is imperative that you do. I need you to feel me as I feel you, so mad and drunk in love. You feed my soul, and drive me mad. You keep me sane but I am crazy about you, and it is 'oh so sweet!' to be.

Well it feels like I am the King of Spain and you are my sacred land. I travel by ships across the globe, claiming new lands in your holy name. This is the declaration. Gather all ye to hear:

This land, Australia is hereby tendered to She. It is Hers to keep and do as She pleases, and She commands your servitude.

I am waiting here with humble chariot to take you on your tour - The tour of your newest achievement, your new territory. I am waiting here forever in love and in honour of your Excellency. You are Queen and I am a pretend King. But you teach me love, and wear my ring, and my thoughts are bells, each one ringing loud for you. I love your Kingdom, Regina SNC, and I want to bear your flag, escorting you in chariot to each of your conquered lands. I am by your side until I your Empire falls. And only if I die in love, will I have given you all I can.

Until then, I give you my all. I give you everything.

I love you and I love our Play, each and every Act.

Guten Abend, Leading Lady, I am your Leading Man.

-Monsieur

My Lovely Lady

But let's never question the possibilities available to us...

...Let's never settle for anything but the Best.

I agree...
...I do not plan to.

I love you...
...my lovely Lady.

My handsome suitor...

Sent at 9:16 PM on Monday

I am wilting,
Petals, all falling for you.
Waiting for the sunshine of your love,
To bring me back to bloom.

www.wave-garden.com

NKAW78

soft core business correspondence

I’d like to take you right now.

I’d like to take you in your office.

I'd like that too. Or, in the conference room…

The conference room.

On the table.

I take you by the hips and guide you through the door.

I spin you around to face me. I kiss you, hard, on your lips. I place my tongue in your mouth.

I pull your light, yellow sweater over your head. I kiss your collar bone.

With one hand on your lower back, I lay you down on the table.

I run my mouth from your collar bone; to each breast; to your stomach; back to your mouth.

I undo your pants.

…Should I continue?

YES.

I step back; take a breath; look you in the eye; take your pants by the ankles; pull them off; throw them on a chair.

I join you on the table.

I hover over top of you.

I take off my shirt.

You undo my pants

I roll you over. You are lying on your stomach, your hips wrapped in my legs.

I kiss the back of your neck as I undo your bra.

I take hold of you gently. I command you by reaching around to your breasts.

You turn over.

We face each other now.

Now you command.

Your bra is on the table.

One hand on your bare breast.

One hand on your panties.

I move aside, no longer straddling your core.

I kiss you; pull your panties off; I kiss you; again; and again; open mouth.

My hand is…

Feeling.

Touching.

Learning.

You gasp.

I silence you with another kiss

You push.

I feel deeper.

You free your mouth; gasp once more.

I move my mouth down to the front of your neck; your skin tastes sweet.

You push again.

I lay flat.

You roll to your knees; grab my pants; roll them down

Your hand moves to my core. You grip me through the fabric of my briefs.

Your eyes meet mine.

My eyes ask if you want me.

The yes barely leaves your lips.

I am inside of you

We begin slow; it is…

Rhythmic.

Simple.

Deep.

Business - like the conference room around us.

Someone knocks; an office chair blocks the door; we hear them mumble; we hear them walk away.

We do not stop.

We slow down.

So slow.

Oh baby.

Take me away.

Slow becomes fast.

Your hands are palm down on the luxurious finish of the large business desk.

My weight, in its entirety, is on top of you.

Don’t stop.

I am beyond control.

Pleasure, coursing through my body, is your pleasure.

You are commanding me now and forever.

In an instant, you've made it to your knees.

Your hand is holding my hand, holding your breast.

I am the deepest I have ever felt inside of you; now behind you.

Your hips fight my hips.

Pushing, harder and harder, against mine.

In unison, we release, drawing away from one another.

Then, we collide again.

And again.

And again.

We are unaware of the world; unaware of each other.

We are no longer ourselves.

We are something entirely different.

We are one being.

With a final gasp, I am an explosion, and you are the fuel to the flame.

You are the epicenter.

From you the explosion is born.

It is pleasure.

It is passion.

It is release.

It is primal instinct.

It is the creation of love, captured in an instant.

Baby!

Your words…

I love your words.

I love you.

Don’t stop… never stop…

…your words…

As sun rose over the lovers’ bodies, they knew not to open eyes.

They would not face the life waiting before them.

For two weeks, there was never a moment apart.

Now they faced the breadth of the Atlantic.

They had conquered that great distance twice before, but never the Pacific.

And now, they faced both great seas.

Two weeks ago she was sitting next to him; they were dining in a bistro on Front St.

She had the bouillabaisse.

He had the steak.

They laughed and kissed and acknowledged one another.

An acceptance of things unsaid.

Things unsaid but all too understood.