A blatant invitation
Beauty says this is bullshit and I tend to agree. It’s not my fault you’re afraid of butterflies.
We are six kinds of awesome with chocolate sprinkles on top – until we’re apart. So, do you want me to promise never to fall in love? Or just never to say the words? You pick.
Here’s what I want: A few more hot breaths on my neck (Mmm, right there) . . . No storm to weather. No spell to break. Out of you, into me and back again.
Bite marks, too.
I embrace that which makes my heart race. I soak up every last sugary drop of adrenaline and squirrel it away. A girl never knows when she’ll need that kind of energy for you. And it’s the not knowing that gets me.
The truth is I am only a sadist in the bedroom. In the mundane that is day-to-day, I know what my heart needs. Not a morsel, nor a chunk. I won’t settle for half. I won’t settle.
All or none, babe.
I didn’t know it at the time, but the first feeling of comfort came when your fingers entwined with my own.
A wise man once said, “Just because you feel it doesn’t mean it’s there.”
Oh, but it is.
So fuck your principles. Screw your fear. Come with me.
You know you want to.
–From I Could Tell You Stories, 2010
Rebecca Tsaros Dickson, author of the collection, I Could Tell You Stories, is a former journalist. More of her work and a link for buying the book can be found at http://thinkingtoohard13.wordpress.com/. Follow her on twitter @ThinkingHard