I'm waiting for you only... you alone. But not so easy when I get in my own way. Amazing how I can compose and even murmur entire conversations to you which always end in my breathless yes... at least once a day... twice on Sundays... and yet it seems that Christ will return before I can muster a yes for you live.
What exactly is my issue again? What does it say about my character if I'll drop to my knees but won't drop my pants?
Oh. Too candid? My publisher tells me I should consider an anonymous blog for writing essays like this. But isn't every part of me -- aren't all my thoughts Christian thoughts? And aren't all of my musings, gamer musings? And so, they all belong here, do they not? I think someone, somewhere may need to hear me.
Wow. Aren't bloggers full of themselves?
I think... *I* may need to hear me.
"Go on, come on leave me breathless.
Tempt me, tease me until I can't deny this.
Make me long for your kiss.
All we have is here and now.
And I'm happy just to have you."
I want to be diligent. I want to be a hard-working angel with great big white wings that lift my brown body and dark eyes into star-filled night skies that are wide and warm and impossible to tame. I want to throw away laughter, trade it in for a serious gaze and taut-lipped expression. I want to be serious and respectable. To enter into that quiet place with the marble pillars and tile floors; that place called Accomplishment.
But guess what? I only seem to apply myself in one arena. And right now it's covered in jelly beans... and an emerald-colored silk sheet.
I am so tired from not shouting from mountain tops that my throat is sore from holding back cries.
"But if my lady
soft as night before dawn
and sweet as new cream
and ready as summer peaches
pressed beneath my tongue
were ever to find herself
satisfied and satiated
by my touch
laying tucked at my side
or straddling my lap
or breathing steady under me
her body languid from pleasure
what then, I ask
what then does my Christ
intend for me to do
with my hands?"
I find joy in poetry and passion. I look to lyrics and prayers. I surround myself with people in love. I walk with others on their impassioned paths. I find myself in love with you in this world in everything. I feel part of something bigger than this heart that pounds unrelenting in my chest... I feel part of something small and private and holy.
"The soft blue of the tiny dangling lights appears every time I close my eyes. At work at the dining room table, I cover my face with my hands in thought... and stifle my gasp. My fingers and palms carry your scent. Behind my hands, I pass my tongue over my lips, taste you there. You are everywhere. Stress falls away... but I continue to pass my hands over my face, through my hair. I want to bathe in you."
Baptize me, indeed.
EJ
