Courting That Connection

Woo Are You? Photo by BradensEye

The road to true love has many different routes. Some embark upon a freeway or autobahn-style highway at maximum speed. Those long, winding, lazy country roads sure set a distinct pace. Plenty of us have incurred dirt paths and dead ends. The fruitfulness of a fling turned to forever is a chance for anyone. Maybe we’re similar you and me if you’re still looking for that lifetime coupling. Romancing the episodes separating the loves of life should be bound as noteworthy as the seriousness we place within the actions when we’ve had someone’s (un)divided attention. Missing pieces can confound through our ages. Wooing ought not to be blended with the exorcism of evils, as we sift through the healthy bits. Love isn’t that device we can grab anew at the store. Patience herein can be prickly. Courting that most affectionate connection is one of my preoccupations.

Love doesn’t make the world go ‘round; love is what makes the ride worthwhile. ~Shannon Alder

What we covet about such love lends witness to the landmines of our loins, as well as linguistic longings. Please leave me lingering on your tongue, ripe with romance, full of all sensory sweetness, so much so that the days hours pass with baited anticipation for the next round of tasteful gymnastics. I want to wear you like clothing and ride you like a smooth-wheeling expensive car. When you whisper in my ear, let it be soft tickles that show the intimate indulgence of folly caught between the privilege of a natural high. I no longer need to wear shoes around you, as my feet never touch the ground. Wrap me ‘round your head, same as the disco roller queens sparkly band of radiant goodness shines brightly beckoning all to admire.

I have to celebrate you, baby, I have to praise you like I should… ~Fatboy Slim, Praise You

When you have a connection for so very long that you starve to touch it, everything in your environment resounds of loving lifeblood. The phallic cactus causes laughter mixed with lustful appetite. You want to sing to the birds and the bees, any flower and all trees. Sunshine caresses seem warmer, in conjunction with sky twinkles shooting all of your love secrets across the world. I want you to be matches to my bonfire. I love you like the ocean loves the shore: massaging, spooning, pounding at times, and allowing independence to honor solitary space. Being without you, but living knowing you’re imaginable, is like the innocent teasing of young ones before they learn how to show friendly fondness. You, sir, are a libation that passes all the tests of age, with the audacity to live away from where I rest my head. I ask my evening slumber to meet you again for a treat until the ether collides with this realm; when we may get down to business on the same plane.

What it takes to be your melody, your harmony… ~Jennings Couch, Be Anything

Take me on, like the seasons take on the change of scenery, with delightful abandon and conviction. Because it’s always for the benefit and keeps the mother’s good gait. When you smudge your tears, I’ll be happy to lap them from existence and smother you in warmth instead. Feeling you against me is a dream I’m ready to have come alive. Tonight I’ll sleep alone again physically, but my soul coils tightly into you. I penetrate myself in search of that feeling of you inside me. You are that special someone so proud of every inch of me, including my Southern. You have no need to let me go, save the traipsing travels that summon me sometimes when you’re unable to join. When we nuzzle all wild cats purr.

There I was, my off my ambitions, falling deeper in love every minute. ~F. Scott Fitzgerald

Let us be one another’s life water — to drink one another in so well; swim thoroughly and playfully in one another; cleanse and bathe one another; replenish and renew one another. This unfulfilled appeal is a powerful powerlessness. I lick my lips and reflect toward you. My toes curl and I think of you. I chew bubblegum or take a shower or blow my nose and consider all your amicable reactions. I simply cannot, will not, stop estimating you, your possible whiskers, your natural ability to furnish my ideas with completion or finish my thoughts with ease. There is no question to me that you’re worth the wait. Your intended words to me, like walking on water, are divinity. I will receive it, you, all, as I dared to ask and trust I will welcome.

Tu me manques — “You are missing from me” ~English translation of the French phrase

Away from me is you teaching me the virtue of infinity. Be a part of me soon enough that we command majesty from the sun, moon, and stars. Carve new patterns for their minds to explain that apart was merely a blip in a thing some care about called time. While, in our reality, apart was the awareness to train our ability to combine. Our union was written in the same ancient texts as the quantum leap. Only they keep thinking it through as if time matters too much. It is neither our foe nor friend, it is of no matter, as I only know you, me, together as beautiful individual parts, part of what makes us one, as partners for one giant yummy love. Some say this connection always floats like you’re off the ground, like walking above, or on clouds… Then there’s the love that fully grounds you. It is both.

We attract who we are being.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store