August 2nd 85
Sweetie my love,
I thought about you all evening long, last
night. I just couldn't get you out of my mind. I
was full of you.
Poetic images, tangible feeling, flashbacks,
desires, familiar scents, it was all there.
I wanted you; I was aching for you.
Strange that after being together every minute
and having you so totally in every way these past
few days, I should still feel this way; so strongly.
Sweetie, even today all I can think of is you.
I can see your profile, in the car, while
driving back from Mexico, and I want to run my
fingers through your hair, I want to touch your
skin, and have you rest your hand on the inside of
my thigh.
I want to look down the cliff and see you, small
figure, vulnerable Buddha, sitting on the sand, my
mat neatly arranged next to you, waiting for me; and
I want to feel the love I felt then, swell inside of
me again.
I want to lay in bed with you in that same
fetus-like position, nestled against each other, two
beings, one man, one woman, bound by love and lust,
trying to blend (melt) into each other; if just for
a moment. I want your hands on my neck; your mouth
on my breasts.
I want your sweat to mix with mine; to feel
your passion again. How exotic it is to make love
to you!
Is it possible to keep on loving you more;
lust for you more, want you more?
Sweetie, I really don't care. I'm not afraid.
I love being swept by that feeling.
It is making me intensely happy; It is making me
18 again (or is it 15?) but with the wisdom and
knowledge I have acquired since then; how much better
can it be?
What can I say? I love loving you; I love
lusting for you; I love looking at you, feeling you,
listening to you, talking to you.
Is this love or what?
I feel so alive and strong and happy.
Oh well, that's all; just thought I'd drop you
a note to see how you're doing.
See ya, sweetie
Lise
(I just reread my letter)
P.S. And just think, the scholars are trying to get
away with the semicolon. What would I do without
it? How would I write my letters?
;;;;
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —