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Desire
by
Vicie Moore
I am sitting here knowing there are other things to be done, but somehow they are distant from me. As of late I have felt an intense longing to feel desired, and I ask myself, What is desire? And I cannot find the words to satisfy my mind's question. Desire is but a feeling that cannot and should not be explained, but instead felt within the deepest parts of one's soul.
Every evening as I lay my head down to rest, weary from what the day has presented me with, I find myself in a vivid imagery of thoughts and emotions that cannot surpass my mind's sense. Most nights he lies next to me deep in slumber and I know not of what he feels, I only know of what he speaks which often is nothing.
I find myself thinking of another, I try to recall the feeling of being intensely desired, I relive the moments as they play out in my mind's eye, trying to savor every fleeting scene as if it were required for my existence. Fingers running feverishly through my hair, his gentle nipping at my lower lip, and the roughness of his hands, tracing along every contour of my flesh. The words that he spoke told me how great was his desire, his actions validated his words in such a manner that encompassed any spoken word.
I realize that feeling is gone, and it makes me long for it so deeply, more than ever I thought I could. I know that it can never be again, only within my mind where it plays nightly and deep within my soul where I long for it most. I find it capricious that I am thankful for these images, these few sweet images that have answered my mind's question "What is desire?"
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