Anticipation is a Feeling

We drove through the woods on a moonless summer night. 

The headlights and I stared straight ahead watching nocturnal

eyes appear and disappear along the gravel roadside.  

We sat a respectable distance from each other,

the driver and I. 

We had agreed that we wouldn’t talk or touch

until we got there. 

I knew when he was looking at me,

but I chose not to return his gaze. 

I was letting the heat between us simmer into the

best stew I’d ever made. 

I had clipped my hair up off the nape of my neck. 

I knew this would please him.  

I let myself swim in the anticipation of knowing

he would find the perfect moment

to unleash the clip. 

I imagined how my hair would fall loose just as

I let myself break loose… from a cage only I had put there.

The car that supported my inner and outer ride

eventually delivered us

into a fairy tale field completely canopied with stars.

This ideal place would provide the stage in which

we would play out a story written just for us. 

This environment was the playground for a game

we both came to enjoy.  I felt as if I were bubbling over.

Then, my companion turned off the ignition and we were

flooded with music only crickets, summer,

and our thumping hearts could orchestrate. 

The bubbling subsided as we sat still and waited

for our breath to synchronize with the rhythm of this haven. 

We let the feeling run its hands all over us.

Every delicious moment breaks to make room for the next,

so he naturally cut through the darkness with his own hand to

gently pull me towards him.  

His physicality and intention guided me from the small space

within the car out into the vastness of the Universe. 

It felt like we floated out the car door together

like smoke leaving a tiny room,

finding its way into an unlimited venue.  

It felt right.  I feel right.  I like this feeling. 

I know more good is about to happen.