A Walk in the Moonlight

Come take a walk with me in the moonlight. As we trod a path so familiar and yet so eerily strange. Step after step on soft, pliant earth, beyond the mundane concrete streets. Underneath a sky blanketed with stars, let’s walk together. The moon is in all its glory tonight, shining proudly in a full circle. It has stories to tell, but tonight we don’t have time for it, for we will write one of our own. The night whispers to us, it welcomes us into the fold of the universe. This is how everything exists in the universe, covered in sheets of darkness; of inky, unsure depths. The stars are too many to fascinate me, tonight the solitary moon holds its sway over me.


Sit with me, on the slope of this hill as it rolls away to meet the savannas. For miles around there is just you, me and the quiet loneliness of everything that you condense in one word to call nature. Chin on folded knees, a pouty lip, you look at everything in clouded wonder. You find it surprising, the silence that stares back at you. You are scared, you tell me, of eerie whispers carried by the winds, of the darkness that folds secrets in itself, of the trees that stand like sentinels to the gates of the Underworld. I smile at the naivete that drops from your lips. My thumb wipes your questions away as it rubs your puckered lower lip. We sit in a sacred silence under the smiling moon. With soft heartbeats and stilled breaths, the world as we know it, sleeps and dreams. For as things function here on this earth, Homo sapiens slip into inactiveness just like the sun does. But you and I, our hearts beat faster in the stillness of the night. Isolation pumps the adrenaline in our veins as we step away from the crowd. You and I, we don’t belong to this world of normality. We are two sole beings meant to be particles of the rambling darkness somewhere in the universe.


The silver moonlight is the ink that will write our stories today. It drains the color of your skin, painting you in a silver hue. My fingers can’t seem to stop stroking your moonlit cheeks. The moon conspires with you, it makes you more beautiful. Your eyes glint, boldly black, the moonlight cannot touch them today because your fiery soul shines through them. I’ve suddenly forgotten how to read your eyes, so many emotions stare back at me at once. Your arched neck, like a gracious swan, brings your lips, a silvery pink, against my lips. The wonder and lust painted on your face by the fingers of the moon are the only things that exist now. The universe is paper thin and it crumbles under your kiss.


I reveal your shoulders to the moonlight and slide off the rest of your clothes. You’re shy because the moonlight is so bright it paints every line of your body into existence. As you worry if I might find you unattractive, I wonder how you could be so beautiful. I lay you down on the soft, wild grass and as the silver rays stroke every inch of your skin, I become surer and surer that I have never seen anything more beautiful. You wait for my approval of your naked body, but I can’t rush when I appreciate a work of art so mesmerizing. The blonde straws of your hair, sprawled in the grass ask for my fingers to stroke them. They weren’t this color, but a whim made you fancy it and the moon agrees with your choice. Your arms rush to cover your nakedness for you are conscious about it. You are so unaware of your beauty and I’d give you my eyes if you could see. It’s as if you were pieced together, to be painted by the moonlight, on this night, just for me.

Every part of your body is covered with the print of my kisses. My tongue is the paint that paints every line on your body until they’ve disappeared. My fingers uncover secret hidden in your skin told unabashedly by your moans. The infinity between your legs is be the stop for my mouth as my tongue licks your shyness away. Your hands lock on my body and tear at my hair, but they don’t really want me away. Your legs open like a blossoming flower and invite me into the depths of your body and I’d explore it like the depths of the universe. Your hands have stilled and your legs unlocked from my back, your moaning lips form the question of the clothes still covering me. You marvel at my naked body, so much like yours and so different too. You run your fingers over the scars because you find them fascinating, but they don’t really have stories to them. They’re evidence of a clumsily lived life thrown away in regrets until you were found. For a while I am just parts to you as you return every kiss to me in voracious longing. Your lips have found mine and the song of our moans haunts the moonlit hill like the beautiful serenade of Sirens.


Your fingertips stroke pleasure from every inch of my skin. Your lips follow, in a devout lust to please me. You haven’t done this before, but you are no novice either. You are a quick learner, and my arousal tells me how good of one you are. But tonight is all about you. You are to be loved, for everything you are, not just every part of your skin but every part of your soul. You are one and singular, beautiful unlike any other. Every word they have created to describe something good and beautiful, it falls short for you. You are something beyond their imagination, beyond their definition. And if I were to condense my life, only this moment would stand out, because here you are with me. I do not dare to call you mine, for the fire within you, is not something I can own. I will forever live in this moment because every other moment will fall short of this one, for you will not be in it.


Our bodies slide together, in the primal rhythm known to us, coded within us. You wrap your legs around me, and your arms hold me as our bodies thrust together. As we climb higher and higher, towards oblivion, I am grateful for your arms, for if they weren’t holding me, I would shatter anytime. You have caged me, and how could I be anything but glad to be caged by something so beautiful. As we topple over the edge, into the abyss of pleasure I kiss your pain away. You brush away my sorry because I have not taken your virginity, nor have you given it to me. It is not a thing to be owned such, you tell me.


We lie back and look at the moon that looks back at us, its fingers stroking the warmth our naked bodies share. Our story has been written. It isn’t special, but it’s a story hidden in the moon’s smile. You look at the stars and you wonder at our place in the universe. But I tell you, just like you there is a star out there, having an existential crisis looking at you and me. We’re all part of the rambling darkness, witnessed by the moon.


Image Source: flickr.com



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