And the text...
Sometimes, Audrey, you give me chills like icicle fingertips caressing my spine. You take my breath from me suddenly, completely, to the extent that instantly, I can make no sound, choking on strangled whimpers.
I get lost.
Your eyes never fail to make me instantly freeze, transporting me somewhere that lives only in the map of your face - the curves and contours and hollows created by the sloping bones and tapering flesh that comprise your beautifully haunted yet undeniably unguarded visage.
A slight curl of the thin lines of your lips leaves me dazed, stumbling, speechless - your exquisiteness a drug. I am helpless against the splendor of each tiny movement in an expression.
Your elegant yet winsome wiles have a way of halting me in my tracks that not a single other delight in this plane of existence can manage. Your power is irrefutable.
I lose myself to you each time our eyes find each other - be it during a kiss or five years later across a crowded subway station, long separated and no longer in touch.
It is you who I lose myself to - diving towards the coral reefs of your being, your soul finally and achingly spread out in front of me like a duvet - wrinkled and warm whereas I - I am wanton, lying beneath the weight of your stuffing, your soft, downy touch cocooning me in its embrace, and you - you are the opposite – seemingly unfettered by the complications of love and lust, almost naive, wide-eyed and credulous, quite like an unspoiled and sheltered child.
When we come together a balance is achieved, a harmony - our voices comingle and dance together in a way that transforms and triumphs.
Together, we burn, a flame that can't be extinguished, as you hold me so close with those eyes that speak of sun and balmy breezes and beaches where we run bare bodied into the breakers, letting the sea steal us away from the confines of a construct.
Daily, I get stuck in our gaze, lost for hours at a time, then - the day is gone, and when the sun sets, I am wholly and entirely without regrets.
copyright 2011 Katherine Andrews
And, finally, the audio...