although we enjoyed immensely their company, there was an unarticulated sense of urgency with which we bid them adieu.

It was midnight. The moon was full. The Solstice was approaching.

Standing on the step, waving as they drove off, I noticed the heavy mist that had settled into the air. I could see nothing past the circumference of the yard, except for the iridescent silver light of night's orb being reflected and scattered by the dampness clinging to the atmosphere. It cast eerie, beckoning shadows of trees and rooftops, and the unencumbered glow surrounded and consumed our bodies such that we could have been in another dimension.

Perhaps we were, for a time.

A bracing coolness clung to our prismatic skin, serving merely to exacerbate the primordial heat burgeoning underneath it.

An infusion of spirit had permitted us to forget the week's transgressions and to relax the resulting inhibitions.

Inside, the urgency was more pronounced. She made her way upstairs, I raised the blinds, lit a candle, and commenced the tones of our Solstice CD. I lay on the couch and wait.

She returned in a most natural state.

The fire of my primordial self burned, coursed through my corporeal being, surrounded me, and engulfed me in warmth.

I had been cold for a long time.

As she made her way toward me, I slowly eased my arms our of my robe, and lay fully exposed by the time she kneeled at my feet. Our space was not immune to lunar mysticism, for bright silver gleams entering through the window caught her neck and back, illuminating her skin and, seemingly, the room; the sole candle's light caught the glints of auburn in her flowing hair as she caressed her way slowly to the pinnacle of my desire.

I became consumed by fire and ice.

Moments pass, and from somewhere distant, beyond the boundary of our intermingling energies but within the confines of the illuminated room, I could hear the haunting Celtic tones of Minogue's Exile.

I knew it was time; I grasped her arms and urgently pulled her forward.

I inhaled her breasts as she clutched my neck and slowly eased herself upon the focal point of my raging, burgeoning want.

We became one. We became engulfed in the flame and the dampness of our need. We were surrounded by a brilliant atmosphere yet we continued to gasp. Our energies, one now, purled, up, down, outward, inward, ever more rapid in their intensity.

Minutes became an eternity on this plane we invoked.

The cry of spirits in Hardiman's Secret World permeate my senses. Her pleads of passion signal that she was close.

The spirits guide us home together, a place where nothing and no one else exists but the thundering, clenching, volcanic eruption that is the union of our beings, body and soul.

I can conceive of no better place to be.

 

Be Well