Inky Waters

~ The waters dark, and some how once again she has ended up here. Looking out into the dark erry liquid she fears. Knowing though he is down there. Shivers trickle down her spine. A sad longing, was her love ever really enough? Could she have done more? Loved him harder? Held him closer? No way of knowing. She stares at the ship, still and unsettling. It's lights bouncing off the black mirror. . . Above a oval spotted assortment of clouds hovers around the half cupped moon and all to soon, she is swept into memories.

The tile was cold beneath her palms, the water splashed around his frame and droplets splash her from behind. She stood facing the wall, his hands gripped and held firm to her hips. The length of him sliding in, her breathe catches and moans slip out, uncontrolled passion, she bends lower, and he pounds, her knees weak, she can't speak, the water everywhere, the unkempt of her hair, and the echo in the shower. How he stands so tall, and in that moment she felt his length, his strength, his power. His name the only uttered words she could say, and every kiss, every thrust, every hand slide, under the shower head, was magic. She felt free and safe, and in those moment's  she felt him, so close to him, as if she had a hope, deep down she knew it was closest to him she could ever be. He made her smile and happy. Then tripped she dips into another memory.

One sunset, one walk in the water, he held her hand and helped her

across

the rocks where she was

 tottering. He had one day, and it was spent with her.

Cocktail shrimp, and heavy conversation, clam chowder

and lingering kisses later. The sun set, and her need to have him closer, eager kisses along his neck, sliding down his chest, fumbling fingers on the buttons, fumbling fingers with the zipper. Her mouth dry with a need to please. A need to make him moan, a need to let the pressure of release in her gut be delivered in some form. His eyes on the road foot on the gas, her hair pulled back, down low she goes....

It's like that now, like she is choked up on him, like the memories make her back go ridged and her thighs press together in shame, only he is long gone, and she stands watching inky water alone.

Tears can't fall, but a smile creeps the edges of her lips, just like the dipping low, she remembers the build up the hand in her hair, the release of it all, and a laugh from her lips, as she thinks about her content kiss. The high five, for the road head, as she looks ahead to the unknown future, she smiles in bitter sweet memory. Every now and then she's choking up on him, again, but not in the same way she desires so. Maybe her comparisons are to crude, but maybe it's just her truth.~

2012 naturemuse