“Moral perfection consists in man’s being moved to the good not by his will alone, but also by his sensitive appetite, as in the words of psalm: ‘My heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God.’”—Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1770.
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There was something of the morning sun that touched and struck in them as love. Like flower opened, bird in song, a something of their nature warmed and wakened—changed—in need for open, share, and lived expression.
Touched and struck, they did. In yellow light in flood of white-walled room atop white down comforter and bed of like-white sheets that compressed in collapse at absorb of her body; they expressed in spirit’s need.
In the yellow light, bodies glowed in nakedness, he kissed her open skin. Softly, gently, his lips like rays of touching sun. Steadying, stilling, she reached for him; arm outward, hand seeking, finding, hold of wrap into slow-pulse rhythm to his delicateness on her; catch of the sun upon his face as she watched him in his kiss, gentle to her chest, his body’s offset in form of cross with hers; one hand in cradle and hold to where he kissed, second low and awaking greater alive in trace of her warm-dewed flower, knees and hips open draped, inviting to his tenderness.
Quiet in the gentleness, low breaths and soft sounds of bodies’ shift over throw and sheets of bed beneath—morning songs of birds returned in praise of sunrise gift.
Pet of her second hand to his face, comb-running through his hair as kiss kept in delicate affection, her second hand still in hold, slow and gentle to him in the feeling that he gave: loveliness in the light.
Her need for more, her way of tell; quiet’s broken in deep exhale and draw of his body; his rise from kiss, their eyes in meet; both ready and showing glowed and known in yellow cast amidst pristine white and framed scene.
His move of her body, drawn to bedside edge, curl and tone of her stomach in flex in ready for coming take; pulse, eyes, and attention all focused to their meet; his hold before, she beneath, slow rock of hips in pleading on.
Hook-draw of her legs, outside and around middle of thighs brought high and cradled to his sides; sweep of her body drawn further to him, slight over bedside’s edge; drive and redirection in full of bodied take; live of her breasts in high of rise and fall of settle back, eyes’ focus still to love-centered sight; attention drawing in, heat source beyond the sun—opening, sharing, live of spirit’s expression-need.
Like birds in sky, their bodies sang in praise of a sun-woke love.