In unconnected hours face-to-face, drenched in the ice-water of failed intimacy, alone finally becomes loneliness. My strong right-side withered under worm-eaten embraces, preoccupied hearts, and habitual sex.
In those days, my body’s insistent desire came from the fear of alone-ness: am I undesired and undesirable? But longing, no–not longing. All the love and affection seemed dried up and blown away. After all those futile attempts to make the marriage work there was no more fantasy left.
I enjoy this sweet, erotic, love-soaked slant on the fleeting light and last roses of fall. And I’m grateful to you for making me the lover I’ve always wanted to be: received; expansive and cherished. I’m surrounded by fountains of discovery and rediscovery; the source and subject of so much passion.
Love beyond the bursting of passion in each artery wall and sticky bit of skin, love past the years, love over fifty, love through the dark times—that lasting, longed-for, whole adult love—must be generous. It cannot demand more than it gives; it cannot measure the gift.
Listen to his heart’s tongue. You only know your own jealous blood. You’ve been burned and betrayed before—that shows. So now you would stifle all skin—fine or fiery. But now’s time to trust him and your sleek passion.
Now, computer dating is already a pretty weird thing. We’ve taken some sort of mysterious Darwinian biochemical social phenomena and made it a language-based, picture assisted lottery. Or I guess if you’re a guy, it’s more of a picture-based language-assisted bar stool. In any case, words are important. The word was ‘Mensch’ in Big Words.
I hadn’t checked into a hotel with a man other than my ex in over 20 years. The atmosphere was so charged I could barely sign. There was a king sized bed, a hot tub, and the two of us for hours and hours. Just after midnight we finally dragged ourselves out of bed and down to the beach. I’d heard something about the Leonid meteor shower.
You can teach an old car new tricks. When I moved to Portland, I bought my first car: a perfect green Rambler Rogue. I paid $1000 for a car that ran almost perfectly for years and worried that I likely overpaid. I spoiled her faded, matronly body, by plunging it into a small yellow truck [...]
I’ve always had an active Fantasy life. In love you’ve gotta have it. But, moderation in all things, I suppose.
Intimate emails: spellbinding to write and seductive to read.