What's a girl to do but swoon?

I've gotten some interesting responses to "Flow".
This one, I like best of all. He 'gets' me. Scary shit.

Flow. You're moving fast, Kelly, fast and beautiful, like a Ferrari in the middle of La Maison Rouge a fast corner on a fast racetrack, Spa Francorchamps, Belgium, steering on full lock, 160 mph, drifting in imperfect suspension between downdraft, centrifugal force, and tire adhesion, wild, sloppy, but the corrections coming so fast, as to be impercetible. To most.

I read that kind of movement into your Flow.

Flow. Breathtaking, woman its speed, its inclusiveness
and, because I am beginning to know you, its accuracy.

I love each discreet song each sketching a different
realm, linked by intuition and craft
To your photographs.
Arranged here on my screen in
advertent symmetry
you paint in color, Kelly, in color, scope, and scale,
the riverseascapes macro, focus stopped short of the horizon,
al otro lado del rio in one
to the near outcrop in the other,
I know that ocean, baby,
You captured time, majesty,
anodized blues and golds,
swimming on the Pacific mist.


In my version
of the sphere we have created,
I stare at universes
that explode around me
in spectacular displays of new experience.

In my experience.
We create our own fluid moments,
glistening like the wings of a butterfly,
my version of our shared orgasm,
describing the indescribable.

When you cum, as you cry,
I sing for you, with all my blood, guts, sweat,
muscle, heart, the hot breath of my lungs,
Stripped of its oxygen by my/our exertions
I sing for you
that
whatever version of our shared vision,
the room
the bed
the light
the fragrance
the dance of our bodies
the motion of our arms,
the sounds of our breathy rock and roll
what ever version you envision,
I sing for you
that my life force moves through you in perfect,
rhythm,
half-time funk,
thrusting into you
raising you,
from the temple of your body and soul,
climbing, expanding, gaining luminescence through your
belly, back and heart,
your lungs singing, rising,
fly I urge you, fly, Kelly, go,
take all the ecstasy you can gather from me,
go, baby, make it your own,
And launch yourself through throat, forehead, and
out the top of your soft, opened skull,
upward turned eye to the creation,
your creation,
wherever your sylvan woman's arms
and the cedars,
and the butterflies and Ferraris take us,

Fly to your heaven, Kelly,
take the greatest delight in our joined explosion
and
as your cries subside,
You call back to me
Cum for me, you whisper,
Cum for me,
Inviting me to ecstasy
Taking pleasure, as do I in feeling your joy
Taking pleasure in my taking pleasure
As I have given so freely,
So joyously,
To you
So you give, so freely
So joyously,
To me.
I love you so for what you have given me and what
unfolds between us
When it does
When it can.

Mmm.. Chris gets home Saturday morning.
I can't wait to see him.