Ecstasy await

A look, a pearl of saline moisture barely visible. His lips move, not quite a whisper. Her hand lifts, the forefinger extending, rising as if by charm or sorcery, levitation, toward her own lips. The tip barely touching the slight, unseen, down, whispering above the pinkish-red cupid's bow covering a hidden ivory parade within.

A breath taken. No, stolen, in that moment between a flicker of the eye. Assessing, enquiring, understanding. A moment of nascent trust, a moment of hesitation. A moment of solitude before the aching loneliness of being one, alone, begins to unveil a desire to entwine.

The desire is not new. These days past they had each felt it within, exploring each other's soul and self with words between shy smiles and hidden looks of enquiry. Is she...? Could he...? Will they? Days and evenings of hidden, new-born connection, understanding, agreement, tentative notwithstanding. For days past, weeks and more, they had seen and not seen, engaging in a weapon-less duel to the death (though not quite death) perhaps a little death? A hope for la petite mort yet to be, perhaps to be, perhaps not. It mattered not at the time of the duel, the game, for the play continued and was an end in itself. There was no compulsion, no mandatory conclusions, the interchange was a completion of itself. Not now, though. Not now as another end draws tantilizingly close yet closer still.

Eyes flicker, barely moving, enough to acknowledge the other's pulse-like aperture awakening. Pupil dilates a fraction, so small that only the most sympathetic, empathetic observance could detect the variation. Veins trace the wavering pattern of microscopic blood vessels radiating from the soul's window. Dilation meets dilation, greets dilation, invites dilation. Dark orbits grow by tiny graduations barely seen and yet unseen beyond the universe of these two heavenly, nay earthly, beings, companions of soul and flesh-to-be.

Another captured breath, taken deeply into breast that rises quicker now that trust begins to give way to an urgent need to connect. And yet, no, there is no contact, not yet. Prolong the ecstasy of longing. Draw out its agony in the knowledge that consummation is about to break its dam and gush forth in all its glory and release.

Fingertip seeks fingertip. Five digital ambassadors trace arc and five more trace their opposing arc toward a rendezvous betwixt, each quintet acting as one, moving closer, oh... so closer, to the other.

A barrier of electricity, a chasm, separates these ten longing creatures moving, micron-by-micron, to pierce the magnetic attraction-repulsion rift that forbids the joining of these five pairs of would-be lovers. Gravity draws, an invisible membrane holds back, the eventual and irreversible connection.

A charge, a current flows this way, that way, through the tips of tentacles mirrored right and left. Opposites come together in an ecstatic friction so slight it need not exist.

Now one being with two hearts, union of souls. Earthly waters rise up within, hidden fonts of freely flowing fluidity. Oceans destined to crash upon the shores of this first and blessed

Touch

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