Shangri-La

Introduction:

This story was written for my life partner. We were new at the time, a love blossoming so strongly, a bond developing so quickly, that poetry and prose flowed from both of us like fluid. We wrote back and forth to one another for months. This is one of those stories...

Shangri-La, for William Elijah

A sweet misty aroma wafted on the breeze. I drank it in. This was the season of flowering wealth all around me, my home, in Shangri-La. The bathing pool had a comforting kind of seduction about it on this day. I was to meet my lover here. My future was settled and we knew that this courting was important for the future of our people. I sank deeper into the water. My wrappings swishing just under the surface around me as the ferns rustled near the edge of the pool. Nectar dripped freely into the water from trees above my head as my lover came into view. He approached slowly, smiling sweetly, eyes endearing all the love I knew he felt for me. My heart leaped as he slipped off his sandals and joined me.

Waves announced his presence in the pool, tapping me gently as they passed. Neither of us spoke. He would not touch me unless invited and I leaned back in the water invitingly. He placed a hand under the base of my neck, with the other, he let my hair flow through his fingers to play upon the crystal clear water. The red waves of locks meandered around his skin. I closed my eyes, trusting his gentle embrace. The scents of exotic flowers reached me once again and in this vulnerable position, I became heady, swooning with the kindness and passion of my future lover and the beauty of our place. The bathing pond was secluded from prying eyes. Ancient trees wreathed us in a secure womb-like tenderness. I could hear the falls in the distance, great currents of water rushing to their destination as the base of pristine cliffs.

He beckoned me upward, having completed the ritual with my hair. As I stood, water dripped from my curves back into the pool, mingling with tree nectar. I lifted my hand. He took it in his. His eyes never leaving mine. Eyes to lose myself in, deep as the pool but not for drowning in, being gently carried on a river of you. His eyes. I was grateful to be reckoned with those loving eyes. I knew he was bound to me forever and that our union would signal the sanctity of Shangri-La. When lovers come together, the bond strengthened the barrier wall that protected us from the outside world. Our home, our stronghold, our lives were held in the balance of his eyes and this moment.

The love was incredibly strong. I felt myself trembling with such beauty before the gaze of my one. My breaths came quicker. The water seemed to respond to our yearning. Luminescence surrounded us, reflected upon our bodies, the light swirled in the silky water below us, growing in intensity. Our faces brightened and I tilted my head.

His hand hand raised to meet my cheek. I reveled in the touch. Soft, subtle, but so charged with desire that I felt a tingling sensation where our flesh met. We remained there. Time stopped. The sounds faded into the darkening sunset across mountaintops and a series of bridges that led to other magical places.

When my eyes opened, he had drawn nearer to me. I felt our bodies touch. His skin, hot against mine. His heart, beating against my chest. A thrill of anticipation quivered through me. I was not afraid of him. I knew him, every feature etched into my memory, the scent, dazzling me with our closeness. His hand moved from my cheek to my waist completing the circle we had created. I was in his arms now. I belonged to this moment. He leaned closer to me still.

And then we kissed.

The light below us rippled beyond the pond. The shores of the water swelled and then contracted. The plants surrounding us lit up for a moment and then dimmed once more. The bond was complete and Shangri-La would be safer for a little while longer for all of us.