When I say I want you…
What I mean to say is that there’s a special tree in a grove of oaks that towers over me on my daily walk. His gaze, like a guardian beast, leaves me breathless. Though I am dressed in wool and leather, under his shadow I am as bare as February’s branches.
When I trace my fingers along his bark, he tugs back gently on my tender skin. Sometimes, as I pull out a splinter he’s left inside me, I remember that it means I’m his favorite.
What we do together looks chaste from the outside, but as I lean back against his firmness, I know he is touching me in a way no man has ever dared. Though I am silent, I am howling in ecstasy within.
Because here is a man who will not fall beneath my weight. Here is a man who will forever reach up and dig down no matter what winds blow. Here is a man who will never uproot himself on a whim and rip apart all my tender saplings.
Here is a mighty man, indeed.
So when I say I want you, know that it is a question, rather than a statement. I am looking to know if your arms can hold me the way his branches do.
If your body compares to the way I feel when I throw myself around his thick trunk. If your heartbeat can pull up the minerals buried deep in my earthy caves. If your girth expands for a hundred years in concentric circles that tell the history of all the life around you, then come my way; I want to know you.
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