I'm glad we met here and maybe we'll meet some day in person. I believe in it, sweetheart.
So here's a little something for you, I hope you'll enjoy!
Love and - attention! - huuuuuuuuuuge hugs,
Zeke. I love my Zeke. Because he knows how to read me.
He taught me how to listen. Carefully. That I may not overhear the tiniest little sound of live.
Joy, fun I hear when I open my eyes and he’s already awake, smiling one of his silver bell-smiles on his lips – just for me.
The soft hush of our hands when our fingers twine, rustling like falling leaves when I touch his 5 o’clock shadow.
The soft dark smooth tune of a huge bell I can hear when I’m laying on his chest, listening to his slow and steady heartbeat.
As soon as we start kissing the beat fastens, tumbles over, followed by a rush of the sound of thunder. Mighty. Stormy. Loud.
Then there’s a soft tune like the cooing of a dove when our tongues start playing. Melodic. Endlessly.
Followed by staccato breathing, desperate moans and groans like sea waves breaking over him. Over us. The effect emphasizes when I start rocking, moving up and down, back and forth – just to tease him.
I can hear the beat of a drum in my ears, filling my head when he falls… on me… in me.
There’s just the sound of Zeke and me.
Rhythms. Fast and slow. High and deep. Blue and red. Loud and silent.
Until release… release…release…
The whisper of the wind in the early morning hours of a sweet spring day WE can hear when we’re holding each other in the afterglow.
The sound of droplets barely touching the window pane I can hear when I look into his eyes, teary, tenderly, full of emotions.
Because of him I’ve become a good listener.
Careful. Attentive. Grateful.
In moments like these there it is to hear – his deep and true love.
Just for me.