WonL
The random thoughts of an architect-turned- lawyer from the deep south living in Washington, DC...
Sunday, August 13, 2006
His breath
I cannot recall exactly where we were the first time he said it, but he leaned in close to my ear and he said "you are my breath.""Thank you, " I said "but what does that mean?"
"It means that you are my breath."
"Right, okay. But does that mean like I take your breath away?"
"No, it means you are my breath. I'll show you." He took the back of my head with his hand and he pulled me close. So close I could feel his lips to mine without them even touching. He told me to close my eyes and then he breathed in. Long and deep, he just breathed me in. That moment sent shivers through my body. "You see, you are my breath."
Throughout the summer, he often breathed me in...when we danced, when we hugged, when we squeezed tight on the Tube. I was his breath. He said he needed me.
Yesterday, when we got off the phone, he said "Hey, I still breathe you every time I close my eyes."