Breathless

I’ve been told the undeniable force of desire’s prowess could leave you breathless during moments of spontaneous foreplay. A beautiful woman once told me—if she couldn’t be made to feel beautiful, what good would intended love be if it isn’t blind.

My first thought was—what a vain way to look at love, or even herself. But then it hit me … love is not so much blind as we are slow to open our eyes to its possibilities. What desirous virtues spouses, significant others, and lovers live out before untrained eyes. What giving hearts give solely on the basis of what is felt inside of them. And yet, many of them go without experiencing recognition, much less, true appreciation for their efforts.

With that said, consider this revelation. Suppose the man of your dreams suddenly became physically blind. Let’s say for the sake of love, lost his sense of sight, though gained a more spiritual perspective toward affection. And as a result of this sudden impairment, he soon learned how to intimately communicate with his hands all while feeling, and sharing, a more intense level of affection.

Imagine if you will, the gentleness of a sculpture’s touch gliding across his finished piece of work. Imagine the tips of his fingers slowly sweeping across your bare shoulder and down along the creases of your back. Imagine the bends of the exposed side of his fingers gently tracing the curvature of your neck.

Imagine your emotional state at that time. Your feelings appearing as if to be rivaling that of an unexpected draft, sweeping in through a slightly cracked door, just as you’re stepping out from a shower.

Imagined if every time you stepped into a room or brushed past him, he would smile as he gently inhaled, seemingly long enough to catch wind of the scent of your hair. Or say, the two of you lying in bed without a word being said, and yet with you knowing that he is relishing in the listening of the beat of your heart, the rhythm of your breathing.