It was a slow morning, a slow beginning. Neither rushed it on. There was no reason; and so they rested in the quiet and the open of Monday and week’s begin.
Frost again on the lawn outdoors, sign of winter’s change—freeze and thaw and freeze-return in change of sky and heat with sun.
She drank her coffee cross-legged in sit, at rest on island stool. Across in room, he stood and leaned in rest to counter behind.
There was a catch in his throat that would not clear, even with coffee’s take, a strain and a feel with means other than cough or swallow to clear.
It was a softer light than of recent days, a yellow less than gold, but still it was a beauty, a gift of peace in hour of day’s begin.
He loved most the way it hit her, struck, lit and glowed her aura in center of room and heart of home; soft curling rise of steam from mug as she raised and touched it to her lips, gentle take then lower back to rest on light glowed island of black and white and violet-hued in tone of yellow’s touch.
She smiled, warming in the light and his stare, immersed and absorbing energy of both.
Lump of throat remained, his spirit-sign of an unsettle as she smiled in her repose, appearance of indifference while in truth, attuned and very much aware.
“What?” she asked with a smile, knowing well already his reason why.
He smiled back, but in it, sign of strain remained.
“I think of you all day,” he said, “right here, like this, just as you are right now; and I can’t help it.”
“Help what?” still smiling, coy and leading on.
“The feel…the want…to have you here and in this way…”
Light laughter, tousle of her hair in high-rise sit and listen.
“Certainly there are worse thoughts than to think all day on loving me…”
Lump tightened in his throat.
“Certainly,” he answered, “but it’s a workout on the heart.”
“It’s important to keep fit,” she joked.
“Certainly…”
He moved from the counter and rest in stand. Walking to side in view of her whole rest, she took another drink, steam still from mug and cradled in two-hand hold. Twice, she uncrossed and re-crossed legs in sit, fold of her robe opening and riding higher in each move; his eyes following to the close-crossed keep of their second time.
“And what are you feeling now?” she asked, her eyes reading, enjoying, finding pleasure in his fixed, strain-stare.
“Strongly…”
She laughed again, light, in ease, in natural of calm even as own heart began in its deepen and resonance of strain.
“Well it’s a beautiful day, and I’d hate for you to pain.” Legs shifted once again. Flash of sight, his heart’s excite, covered warmed and crossed again. His eyes stayed low, energy heat to her ready warmed, “Why don’t you stop the overthinking and love me now?”
She drew robe’s cover higher, more open in its drape, legs still warm and tight in cross but waiting, for the gentlest reason to be opened.
“I’m not sure it lessen any rest of the day’s way…”
“No,” she answered, loosening tie of sash, “but it’s worth a try…Just try…” she encouraged, coy and soft-tone plea.
He moved.
He held her face and kissed her strong, and the strain of his throat was lessened. Loss of the mind in held-love’s find, no longer strained in overthought.
Eager and energy of her kiss’ return; both strong in bodied holds. Tone of kiss setting spirit of rest, strong energy in the softer sun.
A whisper and a praise to God as she received his loving through; strongly, keeping, tighter in close and hold; whispers in love-languaged breath.
Heat of the sun in flash of the spirit, tremble in an awe; release of strain, whole of peace; blush of her face, blush of the stone, warm-touched in the yellow tone.
Gentle kisses, loving eyes, slow again in morning’s way. No rush, no race—love-glowed and being—until raise of way and strong make again; passion in the light and after-meekened, luminous in yellow’s touch.