That Kind of Selfish

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The wind kissed across her bare shoulders like I had only a few seconds ago. Her eyes sparkling. Our giggles filling the humid air. What more would I want?

Conversation, of course.

Her heart, another of course.

And I have both, but I want more.

I want to love her like the lake loves her when she swats the mosquitoes away from its waters. I want her to love me like she loves her car’s engine when it actually decides to start without a spurt and an electric boost from my red sedan.

I want to kiss her lips like the bees kiss the flowers — gentle, but strong enough to taste what she’s all about. I want her to kiss me like the sun kisses the moon — lighting it bright enough to fill the night with a romantic pale glow.

I want to hold her like the tree we sit under clamps the bark to its bare body. I want her to hold me like the orange somehow-top-of-the-line life-vest I wore in the lake today gripped onto my skinny body.

I want to make love to her. To create a beautiful scene of sighs and “I love you”s loud enough to ring in our ears and hearts for days, maybe years afterwards.

I’m feeling so selfish for all that I want. So damn selfish. But I want her to want to. As Destiny’s Child harmonized in our honor, we have that nuclear love. I feel it in her eyes when mine lock and bare into hers. I feel it in my chest when she lays her head near my heart and her hand near my hand.

This must be love. I want for it to last forever, but I know love can fade like the paint on her car because it’s rested too long in that blazing year-round sun. If there’s more, I want more. All the things I’ve said and more. But honestly, as long as it’s love with her, I’m satisfied. Oh to the powers that be, I am satisfied.

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One thought on “That Kind of Selfish

    lionaroundwriting said:
    May 19, 2013 at 10:18 am

    Some vivid images conjured up and good similies. You managed to make a common topic have your own twist on it.

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