Mortal Messages ~ Morse Code Mouth

Had the most glorious explosion last night ~ thinking about you.  

Thinking about last night when I was at work.  In Canada.   You were at home, in bed.   Not so far from London.  

Instant messaging ~ 

So so so ______ at a loss for words here!    How does one describe transatlantic fuckery with the vibes turned up loud like that anyway?   How can one sound so casual to say, 'yeah, I was in an office in Canada but I could feel the heat and the visceral excitement of my lover on the other side of the globe as we swam together over a heated tide' ?

Mmmmnnn.  Asked you to Think about doing me doggy style on the path from the bridge of Orchy ~ outside.

You said 'Fuck! 

          I can feel you ~

                   ... Heat'

Bang on!  I'd just that moment been concentrating on sending you heat.   The temporal expression of cunt-fire ~ mine

You were as surprised as I was 

   Fuck!

And I could feel you.  I was so aroused by that.  Like being in the room with you (and I think I was), yet neither your room nor mine.  Even when my eyes were open I saw you.  I felt, you.

What is it I love so much about your ardour?   How can I not say its magnificent when I can feel it on my face at the same time it's intensive electricity runs through my feet?   

Visceral warmth.  Animal appetite.  Spice on my tongue from a spice merchant a thousand miles and more away ~

It's everything I want in those moments.   You're everything I want and all I know.  In those moments the office glare softened into a pasha's boudoir ~ the fluorescent lights somehow dimming yet rising as we did.    For, I felt Your sure rise.   Knew it before you told me you were moving from our workaday interlude, into the maw of the carnal.  And I knew I had to get right in there, with you.  Alongside you.  In you.  

In my own sweet way, and how I do it, I climbed right inside your skin.  To feel your shocks like so much vibration on a spider's thin web.   And though this is more than a thousand miles away I began to move and swim within your hollows ~ filling every particled space with my own longing for you.  

Driving my desire deep into your bones till your body should feel me almost imperceptibly, an electric eel radiating from toe though spine through to the top of your head.  

Driving a wild animal joy along the tracks I have come to love so well.   The very paths your desires take.  And what light and colours they show ~ not unlike that film, the Fantastic Voyage ~ only I don't need a tiny submarine to traverse your inner expanse.   I ride on my own spirit form, fuelled by love and knowledge of your sure carnal meaty weightiness.  

I don't see anything but this kaleidoscopic tube, where we are each at one end, and we meet in that middle.  

I don't give a fuck what science declares an impossibility ~ I'm only consciousness weaving in and through your shining hard lust.   

It's a tender exacting lust.  It knows what it wants, and 

it 

wants

me

I could be a million miles away yet

I also feel your sweet tautness invade my very skin, I'm sitting in. 

The fucking words and creature demands are sensed both ways, yet I know that 

this time

I'm more riding your rails

I'm at work into office.  

I don't have the freedom to 

touch where you touch

so I touch Us, in the ways instinct and black books taught me ...

from the inside out.    

The moments of silence then between us, instant messaging and a lapse of words were eaten up by the movements I could see of your sure hand and expanding heart ~

I couldn't hear it's beat, but I rode upon the electric currents and twisted in its energetic waves ~ my open eyes shut

My closed mouth parted 

till my Canadian mouth grew as warm as your mouth when it growls into mine ~

And I knew when your apex your denouement drew close ~ just the way I did when latitude and longitude found us in hotel room after hotel room ~ January howling outside, and we, warm and loving, howling to shout 

In those keen moments the side of my face pressed against your glass 

Knowing, you did, of the temperature that swelled vibrant, my sure folds and secret places 

And I felt you as took a little of me into your arms, 

arm in arm leg twined round thigh to the back of your throat, 

curled in the base of your spine and to

eddy on your blue-black shores 

And

Then

Crimson to Indigo fades to the babiest blue whites ~ and we

are

sailing! ~

Ascent

over Schiehallion and a world that

Exists only between our strange mortal

Skin.  

Garden Apple ~ Isle of Skye

(Photo: Full Moon above the waters ~ January ~ Isle of Skye)

My dearest Nicimos ~ 

I will love you in seasons, as the Moon makes herself shine

Ever devoted, be gentle and kind.

As long as I've known you, 

You've been ere on my mind

and

Absent from heart I never do find.

Though ages may pass my heart's loyal and true ~

To the man of the Highlands with eyes, royal blue

     ~ Missimos 

              Xxx  

(Nicimos ~ Can you spot that Garden Green Apple from the Isle of Sky?  It's taken up modeling here ~ Yes!  That one from our Cuillins House Hotel breakfast) ~

Caledonia Dreaming

As I glanced up from someone else’s coffee you saw me first.

Thousands of miles yet suddenly we’re sharing airspace.

Smiling warm embrace. Two old friends reunited.

The first kiss, square on the lips inside the square that was ours.

Flower beds then Westbury’s bed. Two flames burning into a single column.

The taste of Pat and the taste of Val. And the most anticipated coffee of all time.

So much to see, under Gordon’s gloom.

Drip, drip, drip – walls flushed with London’s finest wine.

Dickens’ walls and Sever’s floors. Silent and absorbed.

Lahore’s bread from Heaven. Eyes rolling back in open mouthed wonder.

Or maybe it was the fish? Maybe it was the chips? Oh go on I’ll try the soss!

A wee taste of haggis and a wee dram besides.

Which one is best I just can’t decides!

The sour face on the train couldn’t dampen our spirits.

As we sped for the hills landing in the very Hart of Edinburgh.

Oysters and Kay’s Bar and Castles in the air.

And cars that go beep, beep when you go over the line.

Coffee in Perth and something sweet besides.

Snoozing away, she’s in need an afternoon nap.

I watch as she slumbers and smiles at someplace that looks like home.

Just like BC - those mountains up there!

Check out the landscape, the loch and the heather.

The bridge at orchy and the stones planted in pockets.

Are those love eggs in Sketch? How many more steps up to the top of the dome?

Why does this Guinness taste so damned good? Why have they sat us next to the blast doors? 

Why does my green suitcase keep falling over? 

Why can’t they make a proper Black Russian? Why doesn’t ANYONE have a Bugatti?

We stood in Glencoe mouths open wide.

Silenced again as the bloodied stones drew us in.

Traffic thundered by and we stepped back in time.

The doorway up inside the mountain.

Closer and closer we drew towards Skye.

The sun peeping over Plockton.

Come back another time, the signs seemed to say.

Over the bridge and ‘how many miles?’ to the teashop in the square.

We felt like we were home.

As we lay in tartan glory before windows on our world,

Whiskey downstairs and warm cosy room.

As we journeyed back on the long road south,

We left two very important things on this wild isle.

We left ourselves.

Something of us both remains in this corner of Caledonia.

They’re still there now, ensuring that we’ll return.

Happy Valentine’s My Missimos xxx