Up The Hill

The camera makes everyone a tourist in other people's reality, and eventually in one's own.

Can you handle it?

The rough feel under your palms as you trace the chiseled line of my face. The friction that makes your skin burst into trails of goose-bumps up and down your arm.

Can you handle the tingling sensation that works its way up your calves, past your knees and up your thighs as your fingers flick every bristle from my cheek to chin?

The art of the kiss.

So often over-looked, so often passed up haphazardly in a rush to some invisible finish line. A missed opportunity to truly connect. To drink in the scent, the taste, the warmth of that person. We have sped pass a moment where hands control and draw in lips, patiently awaiting pressure, moisture and tingles. 

This is a story accompanied with a soundtrack. Click here and then start reading…

I lay in bed and watch you.

Moving this way and that, you hurry to start your day. Your naked body, a reminder of our evening together. The way you warmed me as the snow fell throughout the night. Your body silhouetted against the frosty white, shining through the window. Your smell drifts to me and I shut my eyes, thinking of your smell and the way it filled my every sense while we lost each other in a long evening embrace.

With closed eyes, I feel the bed around me sink and I look to see your brilliant smile hovering over me. I hear music when I see you smile. Your melodious voice welcomes me to a new day. 

I am convinced that its the simple little nuances of a person that makes us fall completely and madly for them. The way a particular smile curves. The way a person will first look down at their feet and then up into your eyes and proceed to bite their lip unexplainably. Or the way a woman will brush her hair behind her ear mid conversation. All gestures of a melt-worthy nature.

I once shared an desk space with a woman who would wrap her hair into this pseudo-bun shape and raise it off her neck, only to let it fall gently down and butterfly back over her shoulders. She did this quite often during the day.

There is not one place I would ever overlook on a woman.

Your sound is the best thing to wake up to.

The sun sets and darkness rolls in.

It begins to flicker as it’s light begins to grow more powerful. It’s presence spills into every corner. You can feel it pulsating, humming, vibrating off your skin. It engulfs you in a soft, hazy glow. It surrounds you and penetrates you. Even with your eyes closed tightly, you can still feel it spilling past your closed eyelids. Your mind is filled with its irresistible color, painting itself all over you. Never missing an exposed inch.