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It's Not As Intimate As It Was With Her


The wild rush of those years, I remember well.  It was so good to enjoy the feeling of brushing up against her -- a glance, a smile, a brief kiss, the feeling of her body against mine at night when we curled up together.

The second time I was invited to join her family for dinner, we slipped away to a corner of the yard discreetly hidden from the house and discovered again the joy of simply embracing that made our first meeting so memorable. (Okay, we did more than hug, but not much.  It was the touches that mattered.)

We never wore pajamas, just kept robes and slippers next to the bed for those late night moments when our children needed Adult Intervention.

More than once, we found places outdoors where we could be alone, and took the time to explore each other under sun or stars and sky, on top of giant desert boulders, in deep pools of water ... and then, after three decades, she told me to find someone else, left me with a smile, and died in my arms.

Now there is someone else -- what a joyful discovery, life and love reborn!  But now that the first months' heat has faded, she wears pajamas to bed, goes around the other side of the kitchen island to avoid bumping in to me, find reasons why we cannot spend time alone together ... it seems like she never initiates a kiss, I have to ask.  

Will we ever dance in the starlight together, I wonder?  
windlion windlion 56-60, M May 14, 2012

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