The size of an engagement ring box. A space that holds the future.
The tiniest of spaces where you can contain such sparks...such beauty, such unlocked parts that are dramatic and inspiring.
Frame the anticipation, the wanting...the build-up and desire...the slow boil of water over gas heat...the old-school popcorn in foil bulging in a bag as it heats and expands...
It was the same as the first kiss when she walked into a room...strangers beside and noises and lights and a brief rain outside...a gray that muted any atmosphere. Her stroll across seven lengths of floor brought her into my orbit, extreme proximity...the feel of a heat that is reminiscent of old homes...heated by oil, the sound of pipes warming in a cold southern morning. The warmth starting from the floor, the feet, and beginning to spread across the body.
Her lips were intoxicating, the slight taste of Burts Bees newly applied...and she shed clothes like a season progressing through the year...warming...trees dropping leaves of color and standing there in a stark contrast...
Against the white sheets...her gaze an impulse...a beckon. The way strangers line up on the beach to watch sunsets...drawn to a beauty that each night brings something new. Something fresh.
And the challenge in replicating storms is the ingredients...the conditions...humidity, low pressures, and electrical charges...pulsations and attractions. Attractions...drawing winds downward and pressure upward into a symphonic movement that crescents into an arc of proximity until an explosive force is diffused...sparkling across the sky and heaving in its moments...the thunder a delicate afterward like breath in an ear. Their bodies intertwined...their arms and legs puzzle pieces perfectly aligned...him inside...the her of tiniest spaces that feels like the future...and feels like a massive storm has passed.
She created such storms...she created the conditions...she became we and we became the arc of proximity, the sense of attraction, the pulsation and the sparks of what some might call lightning.
There was such peace in the silence...her heart thunder against him. Her Burts Bees on his lips still.
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