Hushed Silence..The Invitation

He..
You know things, you feel things. you can sit back to back with me and still see into my eyes. Come trace the lining of my soul and bathe in my whispers. We know the language of more. Beckon me near, I pray. A meal, an honor.

She..
The language is unwritten and many, expressing in silence even through these walls. The whispers wane into the thoughts carried by the wind and the drops of the rain.
Today, my longing stretches to feel that which has been offered in simplistic invitation. The stirring rustles like the tumbleweed blowing across the desert, stopping only to untangle my heart that can only be contained by the ribbons and lace, woven around its frame. Today, I feel your silence as only heard as the rain falls silently on my face, replenishing that which will become my tears.

He..
Then, in all humility, take that which is offered. Place your hand in mine, A meal, a pleasure.

She..
For as surely as you take her hand and walk her into the room, you have walked her soul into your presence, for always. It is not the delicacies raised to her lips, it is the thought that one would see her delicacy as a standard to raise to a waiting embrace that will encompass an evening making it a lifetime of a sensual dance swaying back and forth between two lovers held in the intimacy of a forever kiss along the nape of her soul.
And inspiration more than a meal, for life feeds in the infinite circle that is an endless ring with no beginning or end as you dip your life into the glass that manifests hope. For to drink her touch would but fill the caverns and create tide pools to puddle soft, her soft heart. Raise your glass. Notice the light shimmering in its clarity. Hold and cup carefully, for fragile is her beating trust. Your intentions and desires are your integrity, that which keeps your hearts beating in the hushed silence of inaudible purpose and designed desire.
I am humbled.

Raine Les 7/17/2007