One last kiss, and go...
May. 6th, 2002 08:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
janestarzYesterday Jan came over. I had been looking forward to seeing, feeling, breathing him again. He stepped out of the train, saw me coming and smiled. We dove into the woods right away, and he had brought presents already. In an open space in the woods we sat down and he gave me what he called ‘small gifts’.
He handed me a small reed box, with rune stones. He made them himself, from clay and nailpolish and such. It must have been a lot of work, and they really look great. And he also brought a cauldron. A cauldron! 3 legs, about 20-30 centimetres across I think.
I don’t know how to thank him, but I somehow have the feeling he feels like he was thanked enough.
We walked in the woods some more, enjoyed nature. We stumbled upon a magnificent tree, near a bench, where we had apples. The wood was wonderful, there were some broken branches strangled into the still living branches, the leaves were bright yellowy green, everything I once made a poem of.
Ah rain, what can I tell you
‘Stop falling for I’ll get wet?’
Lifewater that feeds the earth
And makes the green blossom
In unheard yellow tunes
The soft glow of the leaves
Now glinstering by a heavenly gift
Followed by pure golden light
When the time came he had to go home, we discussed and pondered, and we decided he could take a train home today. There was no sex involved, but there was meditation, hypnosis, energyplay. The only description I thought could remotely describe what we did was “We were breathing eachother”. My skin still tingles from his touch, as if his hands never left. I think I can never feel like I used to, because I was moved, touched, stroked, loved, by him.
I want to write a poem about how I felt last night, but I can’t. How can words do all of these feelings any justice?
My bed still smells of us. It will be bliss to lay myself down on that bed, to soak in the scents tonight.
He handed me a small reed box, with rune stones. He made them himself, from clay and nailpolish and such. It must have been a lot of work, and they really look great. And he also brought a cauldron. A cauldron! 3 legs, about 20-30 centimetres across I think.
I don’t know how to thank him, but I somehow have the feeling he feels like he was thanked enough.
We walked in the woods some more, enjoyed nature. We stumbled upon a magnificent tree, near a bench, where we had apples. The wood was wonderful, there were some broken branches strangled into the still living branches, the leaves were bright yellowy green, everything I once made a poem of.
Ah rain, what can I tell you
‘Stop falling for I’ll get wet?’
Lifewater that feeds the earth
And makes the green blossom
In unheard yellow tunes
The soft glow of the leaves
Now glinstering by a heavenly gift
Followed by pure golden light
When the time came he had to go home, we discussed and pondered, and we decided he could take a train home today. There was no sex involved, but there was meditation, hypnosis, energyplay. The only description I thought could remotely describe what we did was “We were breathing eachother”. My skin still tingles from his touch, as if his hands never left. I think I can never feel like I used to, because I was moved, touched, stroked, loved, by him.
I want to write a poem about how I felt last night, but I can’t. How can words do all of these feelings any justice?
My bed still smells of us. It will be bliss to lay myself down on that bed, to soak in the scents tonight.
