a kissing, softly.

we talked, comfortably, as if we had known each other or at least, wanted to. and at my surprise i spoke most - on and on - over and over - backwards and forwards. his eyes wandering to whatever was passing behind my back. that reality i did not know, i could not see it and therefore it existed without me. (beings exist only when we think of them). "so you think you are the relationship type." i never would have thought that way or believed it would become so, but it is a preference i now prefer. i want intimacy over physicality and most individuals only expose their body - their being - in that fashion if they are secure that it is a relationship they are in. but i am not so sure i insist there be so much pressure. it is just in all relations of mine i want to create a space that is heavy with substance, that is designed by the senses. "you give off that impression. you like softness. you want to capture sensuality." i try and make it that way because it is how i want to remember the moment and i take responsibility for my involvement in it. "but i want to ask you something - oh gosh, and it sounds terrible but - do you ever want to be just fucked?" no.
it was not until later, under a different setting, with my legs pressed inside his shape that his hands touched my skin - tinted ruby by the burdening light. and then, before leaving each other - with no commitment to hesitation - we kissed. and even with my lips being there, i thought, and yes! this is yet another soft, soft kiss.