In all the years I’ve lived I can’t fix my lips to say as an adult I’ve visited another country, bathed in the sun on a tropical island, sink my feet into the white sand and sip on a strawberry watermelon margarita while gazing at the ocean blue. The only time I saw my feet in the water was when I was taking a bath or a shower outside of hanging out at the local pool. To be brutally honest, I don’t own a passport nor did I have the desire to acquire one. Sadly, I haven’t been in a relationship which inspired and motivated me to have such an experience. However, over the years I have pondered the thought of what it would be like.
Today, my mindset has changed. My body’s hungry for such an adventure. I now have a taste for finding that special someone I can enjoy life with traveling to different parts of the world to see how other people live, eat and think. I discovered education and travel to be necessary elements to acquire in order to enhance the quality of ones life. This contributes to our continued growth. It’s recommended to step outside of our comfort zone. That’s when life truly begin. Needless to say, I’m sadden to admit I never walked holding hands underneath the Caribbean sun. Nor have I ever made love under the beautiful island moonlight. I always thought I’d have the time to do so. Perhaps, all along I’ve been fooling myself. Yet, I still dream of the possibilities of it happening.
Strange as it seem, love has it’s own way of sneaking up on you. Especially, when it’s poured into a small pipe which leak from the side. It then slowly drips through a funnel and land dead center on the top of your head. Shortly after, it burst and splatters all over your unsuspecting heart. Some people would dream to have such a problem. Other’s may have to apply and sign up to enroll into a program to file a claim, then submit a form for a permit to love due to their pass credit history. During that exact time one would instantly come to the realization that beauty can be a tasty cruel exotic mistress.
I want the opportunity to experience the power of sunshine and discover the appealing healing feeling of what it means to surrender unconditionally. I desire to be loved passionately, for the sole purpose of inspiration, even if it’s just for a moment. I’d like to bathe in it’s eclipse. I wish to kiss lips that are sweet and succulent. The type of lips which ensures a cavity and are fully laced with blistering fire to the touch but taste like wine.
I long for a Sunday kind of love. One which instills a forlorn heart. The kind of love that hurts from the start and leaves me aching and sore all over my dependent body. I’m talking real love. One that’s meaningful and spell-bounding. The kind that make you feel light and lifts you off the ground. The kind of love who’s pain is so deep you can feel it in the pit of your stomach as it leaves a wrenching tying knot. The type which invoke cramps and will have me crawled up in a ball, slump over in the middle of the bed, rocking back and forth. It’s the pain and suffering kind of love I want in my life. The kind which is unbearable and guaranteed because as soon as you look at the other person you’re in love with, you know, it’s not going to last because after all everything must come to an end and nothing last forever. It’s the beautiful kind of beauty of such a creature that stand before you in all their brilliance.
Radiant, stunning and vibrant. A brilliant show stopper. A dozen Sterling Silver roses with a single red rose placed in the middle decorated with baby’s breath, tend to create the ultimate wow factor. The lifetime of such a rose is short and brief. Nonetheless, the flower arrangement when received simplifies its purpose and drives the message home with a devastating punch. The receiver will forever remember them and cherish the memory of such a gift, keeping them fresh in their heart and mind for a lifetime.
“Hey Ma, look what I’ve found.”
She, looks like Christmas morning. Behold, the beautiful hurt before the actual pain is felt. A perfect imperfection. My head turned suddenly with a bewildered gaze searching her face. I counted the freckles on her face. All 106 of them give or take a few. She’s the woman with the winsome smile I can’t do without. Such a person which captivates you should be loved as if you were to lose them tomorrow. It will force you the kiss them a little longer and hold them just a tad bit tighter; never for one second taking them for granted. She’s a gift. A rare type of offering. You have to treat them as if tomorrow will never come. A pleasant present which should be treasured while on loan. It may not seem like a viable solution but trust me when I tell you-you are going to miss them when they slip through your fingers and realize their gone.
Concierge Confessions: Soft & Wet
The elevator door opens. Aiyana undulated from the elevator, across the lobby floor, and to the front entrance as if she hadn’t any bones in her body. To perfect such a walk which manifest such power is legendary. The miraculous scent of her fragrance filled the air before she’s seen. The sound from her red bottoms hitting against the varnish commands attention, causing confusion and calling for heads to turn, point and stare. Mouths drop to the floor as if a divine or supernatural intervention of an occurrence had suddenly appeared.
Outside, lights flicker and flash. Camera lens zoom in, and focus. The sound of clicks can be heard a half a block away. She insisted to carry her own bag. Paparazzi scrambled to post their sighting on social media. She’s the girl who lives next door and never has to stand in line. She’s the one everybody wants to be around. The door opens as she approach the velvet rope. Inside, a table in the VIP section, in the back against the wall has her name on it. A void is never filled after she leaves.
Music thumps in the background. The lounge lights bounce and reflect off of the gloss from her lips and becomes a spectacle of a show within itself. Her angelic timeless beauty moved across the venue floor for all to see before she takes a seat upon her throne. Only a few could relate, but not the local rube. Single women who were spotted at the bar sporting fancy Prada handbags, tired hair weaves and chipped fingernail polish scrambled to adjust their fake costume jewelry. They hesitated and had a difficult time remembering names after a few drinks. They would make up mnemonics based on body type and facial features, as their meager and insecure sidekick for girlfriends glared 3rd degree eye burns. Others clutched the arm of their unassuming boyfriend(s). I had the pleasure of escorting her greatness from the garage to the venue and VIP section. It was like witnessing the parting of the red sea. I was forced to pinch myself to see if I was not dreaming and living in the present. I kinda felt like I was on the red carpet at the Oscars.
She touched and moved me in a way words could not properly translate nor can I articulate on paper. I watched it all unfold as I stood still in silence and partly in amazement. Her elegance, style and grace was simply marvelous, purely inexplicable. It was almost as if she seemed to conjured up a magical phenomenal aura of bliss and of inheritance around her to be witnessed.
I remember needing an asthma pump the day before the event. The resident doctor asked me if I was allergic to anything. My answer to him was in this exact order, “Women, cats and cheap perfume”. I could only imagine the softness of her tender touch. As the lights reflected off the wetness from her sugar filled lips made me lose control. I’d be a fool to let her slip away. I mustered up the courage to finally speak, “Excuse me, Miss, Lewis”. I gently touched her hand.
Concierge Confessions: Soft & Wet
In my theory, it was Access Granted captured in slow motion. A vision of an incredible human creature now exiting the venue. To others it was a nightmare waiting to happen as women dressed in their best outfits did not get the attention they planned to receive. Even the hotel resident from unit # 12B, the jolly man who’s full with jokes became quite as she seemed to float across the floor.
Holding in my hands are two tickets to the Botanical Garden & the High Museum of Art located in Atlanta, placed inside a white envelope. The light show is said to be a spectacular spectacle. I placed them in palm of her hand. I didn’t receive a lecture nor did she seem to be suspicious. In fact, I think it was expected. She smiled and asked, “What took you so long?” A new chapter in my life begins.
I stood behind a desk and watched from a distance keeping to myself the many different things that are felt and bottled up inside, waiting to be heard. I’d like to share openly one day but today. It’s not a good career move. Torn between love and lust becomes complicated as my true feelings are kept within and remain burred. However, my eyes convey a different story. If it’s not too late, I’m gonna do all the things a woman would want a man to do. I’d like to lean over and softly whisper into her ear telling her all the things her body long to hear. If it were up to me I’d unwrap her like a Welch’s Grape ice pop place and slowly lick every inch of her body until the center melts inside my mouth. The images which run across my mind of the love we would make fills my head constantly like a throbbing migraine.
Her stellar smile possess the power to lighten the load of a heavy heart. The room appears brighter when she’s around. Her scent’s hypnotic. Problems before her witness don’t seem serious anymore as long as she’s near. She’s the woman that has stolen my heart with little to no effort. She walks by me every day. My day never seems the same after an appearance. I could never forget or mispronounce her name. I could only imagine Aiyana feels soft when wet. She often leaves me speechless and weak. She’s different and special like Granny’s Sweet Tea. I long to drink from her cup. Cotton ball throat, my mouth becomes noticeable dry whenever she’s around. Wherever she go, I will follow. Just lead the way my sweet. My body’s hungry for your love. I have a taste for living a life with only you.
Her thick coke bottle outline delivered the final coup de grace. I stood in font of Picasso’s master piece. A devastating paint stroke of grace from God’s hand, was witnessed from the front, unfolding an untold story. It was a complete description of her backside glory only a compass could find. She looks like how a love song sound when played on cue. The music in my ears creates a vision of her and I. Literally sunshine in the moonlight walking. A living testament. She’s the type who can have all my money. (Just leave me with carfare to get back and forth). Well, maybe not all my money but you get my point.
Like sweet Coco bread with a Jamaican chicken patty placed inside, when I look at her I see everything in my life that’s missing. She’s a constant reminder to take the shortcut home. a simplified love symbol. I can feel the earth move before shake and after the tremble.
I have a confession. I had reservations to have this conversation with you which almost didn’t transpire.
When you love someone. Excuse me. Let me step back and say this correctly. When you are in love with someone you don’t hold back. You give it all you got and leave it on the table. Although, beginners love tends to fade and at the end one thinks about the beginning. That’s when I think about the sunshine in the background and how the moonlight captures her angelic glow. She was the most beautiful mistake I ever seen. She was soft to the touch and after a kiss, wet. I was happily tangled and trapped inside her net.
I am but a servant…