Birth of The Phoenix

The sheets are cool and crisp against my body. My heavy eyes can no longer fight slumber. I drift into the darkness as memories of him push through my subconscious. My body moves in sync with the sensual rhythms created long ago. I call out his name. Aware of his presence, I open my eyes and wonder if I am awake or dreaming. His eyes were full of fire and intensity but also reservation. Can I lay beside you? He asked without moving his lips. He patiently waited for permission. His movements were swift and graceful. Not slow and calculated as in times past, he moved with reverence into the sacred place of my bed. Did he fear I would change my mind? 

The heat coming from him was intense, but he was content just being next to me. His strength and power are very present, yet he chose not to wield his power over me but instead to let me decide. He wanted me to trust him and know his love for me.

In the stillness, we embraced the silence. It was comfortable, not thick or troubled. I inhaled and pulled his arms tighter around me. He exhaled. His breath hit my neck, and I knew the time had come. Do I tell him the words not spoken in so long? As if he read my mind, he whispered, "Tell me," out loud. I whispered back, "I love you." The warmth of his essence slowly faded away. The verdict was rendered, the tower crumbled, and the Phoenix rose in its place. 

~ Makeba