today, as we played
she said, “I didn’t know your ribs were ticklish.”
i thought of how
i know where you like
to be kissed
and stroked
but i didn’t know all
your soft places
and you didn’t know mine
(hurt happened)
as i started crying,
she said, “maybe this isn’t a good time for the tickle game.”
and i realized
sometimes
it takes a long to know someone’s soft places
(that’s what makes love worth it)
invited in but always careening towards something (careless footsteps) skin throbbing from the sting (and not wanting to forget) the pulsating rhythm of blood rushing to the point of entry bathed in sunlight, the clenching stops while quiescent clouds gather rich, mellifluous enchantment moments and memories stitched together (everything in his house has a story)…
“A true relationship is a celebration of intimacy. Intimacy acknowledges the capacity you have to embrace another to the degree you’re willing to embrace yourself. The heart of intimacy never suggests: “I’m here to help you approve of me.” Instead, the heart of intimacy says, “I choose to love you no matter how you view…
A friend of mine recently told me, “You know, Kymberlee, you will find a man who treats you with the respect you deserve when YOU know you deserve it.” I know it’s true. My spiritual teacher, Matt Kahn, once said in satsang that our bodies and the hearts that inhabit them are works of art….
