The Blood & The Bones

How did you know?

How did you know how to touch my skin and hold my body with concentrated care, with a grip meant for harder things when required and softer when I am coming down from the mountain top, from the sun beams we soared together to meet? How did you know how to love me as needed? To fuck me with intention? Whatever that intention may be. Whether it is just to roughly use my soft, wet vulnerability or to slide into me with languid strokes and tender devotion. Every time you know exactly what I need.

How have you exposed me in this way? How can you know what I desire even when I cannot find the tongue to convey the necessity? When I am frustrated, when I want to run, when I do not have the words to speak it? Slowly wrapping the fragile skin of my wrists as we spend hours reacquainting ourselves or forcing me to wake as you press down upon me because the passion is too much to bear alone. Because you must have me. And in turn, balancing the ache within both of us for what is intrinsic and innate to our nature. Giving permission to the primal that lives within. While loving me with a benevolence I have not found in other men.

This is the love I’ve always wanted. This is why you have my consent to take whenever you’re in need. Because I need it too. I always need it and this and you. I have blossomed fully in your adoration, under the thoughtful care of a man who seeks to lead but also to understand. Forever changed from a woman who could not ask to one who does not need to. You have ruined me for the all the others. And, for this, I am forever indebted to you.

the blood
& the bones