Lisbon, the 30th September, 2009

"And then my hands...on your hands"

And then my hands found yours. The perfect fit.
There have been so many hands running through my hair. Competent lovers.
Some from lust. Some from the heart. And then some from the soul (the best kind!).
There have been several eyes watching my nudity, admiring my skin and taking my hands like the people of all times have been taking Princesses hands for thousands of years.
Nothing new there...
I´ve held so many hearts on my own hands and still search for the perfect heart to hold...on my hands.

I forgot and quit the search until...your hands.

No hands have fit like yours.

There have been all kinds of caresses. And hands.
Big hands, small, strong and fragile. All warm, even burning in fire but never quite perfect when entangled in mine.
There have always been some centimeters to adjust, my fingers in an effort to grasp another pair of fingers, trying...trying too hard to fit...and never quite there.
All those hands held mine. They held my hips, my neck and - one of them! - my own bare soul.
All amazing to my thirst and cry for love. All amazing.
Though...
None have fit like yours.

everything has caught me off guard.I thought I had seen it all, felt it all, loved it all.
I knew - did I?! - no hands could ever perfectly fit mine. Universal truth I took for granted.

And then...my hands on your hands.

I lay my head on your chest hearing the church bells that take me to heaven.
Another perfect fit and I am scared. Peace and war run together around my battle field transformed into a bed or roses.
You tell me: be silent. Hear the moment. enjoy it...stop trying so hard.
I speak. Like a compulsive, crazy, disoriented sick poet, I speak.

Nonsense.

I speak.
Too little.
Too much.

I am scared.
Of you. Of those perfectly - irritantingly - fitting hands.
Of you. Of that perfectly - irritatingly - fitting chest where all my heart turns blank and yet...full. Once again.
Of you. That soft devious drum whispering inside your chest while I am laying there. my head on the moon. A disgrace of full pleasure and abandonment.
Paradise on earth.
Everything exists and everything is there.
Here.

Of you.
Of me.
Of THE LOVE.