You Spin Me Right ‘Round Baby

My Dear Sir,

How is it that I can feel you so acutely across an ocean? I can actually feel you smile without you telling me that you are. I can feel your happiness. And even if you don’t sound like it, I can also feel when you’re tired.  I instinctively know.

Can you sense me too? What things have you known without me telling you? Or – at the risk of sounding chauvinistic – is it a woman’s intuition thing?

Correct me if I’m wrong, but it feels more intense than it was before. Were we like this nearly 15 years ago?

It just leaves me astounded and spinning off kilter (in a cool way). I am floating in the metaphysical Sir, and you are at the center of my vortex.

Dizzyingly yours,

Darling

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

My Sensitive Darling

We were always very attune to each others moods, feelings and states of mind. It was just a thing we had, and one we’ve quickly regained.

There are things I pick up on. I know when you are vexed, I know when you’re distracted and I know when you are playful. I also know when you are trying to hide something from me.

You are right in assuming that it feels far more intense now. I wonder why? It’s not something I’ve had to this level with anyone else before or since. We have quite the simpatico thing going on. It may be because we have not experienced it in such a long time, that’s certainly the case for me.

We were incredibly in tune 15 years ago, but we were also 15 years younger and I guess we took it more in stride and treated it as a more commonplace occurrence than it no doubt is. I am more in awe of it now, just as I am more in awe of you. With the obstacles in our way, many of them put there by me, that we could even be at this point is miraculous, a word you know I don’t use lightly.

Synchronously Yours

From Sir With Love

©2014 Darling and Sir

I Believed You

Poem referenced in the letter “In The Blink of an Eye.”

There wasn’t a white horse
But you brought a glass shoe
Fluffy clouds, stars, and dreams
And I believed you

Didn’t need shining armor
Fairy dust – a pinch or two
High-priced colored glasses
And I believed you

The sun and moon were aligned
You played a love song
I thought I could believe you
I found out I was wrong

By Darling ©2013 TSL

First Night Part 2

My Dear Virile Sir,

That first night was much more than making love; you had started to Uncover me.

After hearing the hideous noise that kind of freaked me out, you came into the spare room to sit with me and ease my mind. Neither of us had any preconceived notions. You truly were (and are) a gentleman.

You lay by my side. Your face was so full of concern for my well-being. I remember you reached out and rubbed my arm offering me comfort. Your hand came up to caress my face. You traced my lips with your finger.  I automatically turned my face towards yours, and your head came down. Your lips gently rubbed against my own – feeling and exploring. I felt you smile against them. It was the most unhurried, beautiful kiss. We loved to rub our lips together.

My tongue naturally came out and stroked your bottom lip from one corner of your mouth to the other. I felt your intake of breath and your soft groan. It exhilarated and excited me. You told me that you have committed to memory the feel of my hand on the back of your head and my fingers running through your hair.  I also remember running my tongue along your jaw line to your ear Sir, which I lightly sucked.  I kissed your cheek, your neck, and your lips again. I nibbled on and owned your bottom lip.

I vividly remember pushing you onto your back and kissing your chest so I could feel your heart beat against my mouth. It was racing under my touch. Your hands were in my hair as you arched. I lost it. I loved kissing your neck; I craved your skin.

You loved my burgundy toes. You kissed them and my feet and ankles and up my legs. If I thought your eyes glowed earlier, that was nothing compared to how they smoldered now. They blazed into mine kindling my passion and making me blush.

I don’t even recall when I became aware of your hand stroking my bare leg. Those long fingers that so beautifully play the piano lovingly played my body. The music we made was pure and raw. I couldn’t lie still. I even remember telling you that I loved your long fingers.

There are four words you said to me at that time – four words that made me pause. I misunderstood at first. Your eyes were fiery and staring into mine as you realized my confusion. You quickly cleared up my doubt then made up for it tenfold. I’m still a bit chagrin realizing my misinterpretation. I have never forgotten those words. I never will. You touched me. You branded me and made me yours.

I can see you looking down at me. You weren’t smiling, but there was so much heady emotion in your features. I responded to you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. I can still see that look.  I can feel my body reacting to the memories even now after all these years. It hasn’t waned one tiny bit.

Intensely yours,

Darling

……………………………………………………………………………………..

My Luscious Darling

I never thought I would need to reply to such an intimate letter in such a public place. You have chosen your words so very carefully. It is almost as if you have thrown down the gauntlet.

That hideous noise was my blessing and my curse. You were so obviously concerned, and I so obviously flummoxed as to its cause that I thought you may never rest.

If I saw this tale unfold elsewhere my cynic’s radar would be in overdrive. “A noise?” “Rubbing your arm.” “Tracing your lips.” Then of course the “kiss.” If I hadn’t been there myself, I would suspect the careful planning of a seasoned “player.” The fact is that it was as you tell it. It wasn’t planned. It was a moment in time, both pure and real. I look back on it now and these circumstances make it even more surreal and most certainly more beautiful.

I remember you kissing me, then sucking my bottom lip. But what I remember the most was the ease of our coupling. My hand between your legs as I teased them apart. My tongue running from your ankle to your thigh then to places far beyond.  I loved to run my hand down the length of your leg, holding us together, as I gazed into your frantic eyes.

I too remember those four words. Your passion and excitement were like nothing else. I was in awe of what your body did. That I could confuse you at such a defining moment truly mortifies me. I was full of nothing but admiration, adoration, and love. You amazed me then and I will never forget. 

We had spent eighteen months waiting for our time to arrive. You were in my home, we shared a bed, and then we shared one another.  There was fire, there was passion and there was a real dynamic sexual tension. But above all else though, there was respect and there was love.

I love you my Darling, more now than ever. I must finish with the word’s that are a somewhat over quoted and a little bittersweet. The words are from Alfred Lord Tennyson poem In Memoriam. “Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” Well I have loved you my Darling and you have loved me.

Sensuously Yours

From Sir With Love

©2013 Darling and Sir

Uncovered

Darling’s poem she wrote for Sir not long after leaving Australia.

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Deep inside my heart is a place that I thought was lost

I hid it, because it was more than I wanted to bear

I didn’t understand the price I paid, nor did I count the cost

I thought I was alone; no one to share

I didn’t realize the vital, missing piece

Was a part of me that couldn’t be duplicated or replaced

Neglecting myself was leaving me damaged and incomplete

A small but significant void – an an empty space

A hand reached out and helped me off the ground

I stood once again and wondered how you knew

Uncovered – that hidden place was found

You gave me back myself –  from somewhere inside of you

.

By Darling ©2013 TSL

Dare I Hope

Hello My Darling

One of your many gifts is your poetry. My heart swelled with pride when, after fourteen and a half years, I got to hear about the awards you had won and the journals that had published your work. I am many things but one thing I am not is a poet. I lack your skill for succinct brevity. I therefore really don’t know why I decided to jump right in to the depths of these waters, familiar to you but treacherous to me. I don’t write poetry. The last time I even attempted it would have been in high school. I have contributed to the lyrics of a number of songs but they were nothing more than a series of rhyming couplets.

When you restabilised contact I penned you these verses. It was probably triggered by my reading of your own excellent work. No doubt there was a level of conceit thinking that I could mimic your efforts. I am a little frightened to even put this out there as I feel it unworthy by comparison. But here it is. The piece I wrote for you. I can see its weaknesses, its inconsistencies and its structural flaws. Please forgive me all of those things. I hope you can see the heartache and the love.

You Will Always Be My Darling

From Sir With Love

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It was a bright, autumnal Utah day

A girl, a woman, a lady

Walked into a room

Into my life

Her spirit, indomitable

Her self confidence, unbreakable

Her wit, unassailable

.

But beneath her carefully coiffed façade

For those who cared to look, dared to look

She was hurting, grief struck, broken……..almost

Her outer shell was but flaking lacquer

Brittle, turning at the edges

In the harsh Utahan sun

.

I turned my head and offered up a gentle smile

Then closed my hand on hers,

Why? Just because

She looked up somewhat startled

She thought to raise her ire

Quick as a flash she changed her mind

A smile, then on with the show

.

Her hand, well I can feel it still

It radiated warmth

But through it I could sense her grief

Her incomprehension, her loss

I knew no salve to heal such ill

So I offered up my ear and listened

Then talked, and listened more

.

The days turned to weeks

The weeks into a year

The room could not contain us

No telephone line long enough

Two cities were but inconvenient

Two states, a mere annoyance

Then two continents, one big ocean

Almost enough, but hardly

She sang, she soared she radiated goodness, beauty, light

I basked in her glory, her adoration, her splendour

.

I could not get enough

We bonded on all levels

First comedically, then intellectually

Emotionally, even spiritually

Then at last

And with passion not known before or since

Physically

.

She was healed now

Not better, certainly stronger, and just a little different.

She had the strength to make some plans

She held my antipodean hand and told me she was mine

I cried with joy

I sang and shouted

Oblivious of the pain to come

The pain that I would cause

.

Then…….the room was empty

The telephone line was silent

An artificial construct came between us

I thrashed, I wailed, I fought with all my might

I thought I could control it

How wrong was I?

I took a wrecking ball and across the ocean I did hurl it

She never saw it coming

I broke the thing I loved the most……almost

.

I brought the circus with a side show to my town

I the ringmaster in my own demise

The clowns did not distract me

But the witches cast a wicked spell

I succumbed to weakness, vile and petty

Deluded, ignorant, shrill

While an ocean away

The creature that I adored most

I loved her as I have loved no other

I still do

Lay battered, bleeding, bruised

Broken…..almost

.

For fourteen years I walked the wilderness

Taking comfort where I could

False prophets everywhere

They took my goods and chattels

The last vestige of my dignity, my self belief, gone

The sign posts were forlorn reminders

Flagging careless actions of a wasted life

Sadness, loss, remorse, regret

They led the way

They were my dim, dull, dark light

.

Then a hand reached out

She thought jaded, I thought pure

She turned her head and gave a gentle smile

And covered mine with hers

I was startled, manic, frightened

She calmed my nerves, dispelled my fears

Gave me a love I did not deserve

.

I had hurt her, it was clear to see

But her pure heart, still sought to heal me

Her great tormentor lay distraught

A shell, a shadow, an echo of his former self

I looked at her with fear and amazement

“How could I have let such a thing of beauty ever leave my sight?

How could I have been so blind to what I had?

How could I have hurt this precious creature?”

Who even after all the heartbreak and the pain

Could find it in her heart to love me still

Want to heal me

Make me whole again

.

Well I am hers now

But….will she ever be mine?

A man, flawed but always there

A man who waited

A man that I was better than, or so I thought

Had held her hand, then carried her on his shoulders

As she traversed the desolation

That had been my parting gift to her

.

Today we travel on a new road

An unchartered path

I try to explain

Then she heals me just a little more

And I hope in my small way

I heal her a little too

I am brave enough to look once more

Into her deep brown eyes

I search to find the hatred, revenge, disgust that must be there

Sure I see the hurt, but there is forgiveness

Even love

Will I ever see her trust again?

Will my betrayal ever be washed away?

It’s more than I deserve, but still……..

.

For fourteen years I carried a flame

Naked and pure for a woman I so wantonly destroyed

Will there be forgiveness? Yes

Reconciliation? Yes

Happiness, Laughter, Joy?

Yes, yes, yes

Will there even be love?

It amazes me still but I think the answer to be ……. yes

.

But…….Will I ever see her smile at me again?

Will I ever hold her hand again?

Or even better hold her in my loving arms

Will she lie beside me as I sleep?

Cover me when I am cold

Care for me when I am ill

.

Will I ever get to gaze upon her beautiful eyes once more?

Will she get to hear me whisper “I love you” in her ear?

I fear not, my time has passed

That pain it is now friend

I of course know that truth

It is both just and fair

.

But I wouldn’t be a man at all

If when it’s dark, when it’s cold and when I’m lonely

When I hear the siren song of the demons in my head

When they call to me

Calling out my long list of ills

The list that is my very torment

How could I not?

Why should I not?

Have one last deluded dream

That one day, one day

She will once more say she will be mine

Dare I hope………………………?

.

By Sir © 2013 TSL

Sir Rogue

My Dear Sir,

The occasion I am going to talk about in this letter I believe happened the first full day I was with you. We were in your living room taking it easy as I adjusted to the new time zone, and I picked up a photograph album. I casually flipped through the pages. I was asking you who people were in the pictures. I wanted to share your life with you, and that included your friends. You closed your eyes, inhaled deeply, muttered something under your breath (quick prayer maybe?), came over and sat next to me, and said, “Let’s just get this over with.”

I am giggling now, because that was so you. You knew that in a few pictures – many of those pictures there were women you’d been with sexually and you wanted to face it head on. So in grand Sir-style you decided to hold my hand and temper the storms while you confessed your past. You were going to preempt any questions I may or may not have asked. I assure you Sir, I would never! (Still giggling here)

I can see you in my mind’s eye physically cringe when you affirmed with a “Yep.” You watched my face ever so carefully while the grand total kept climbing. You appeared chagrin and  somewhat repentant and even a tad bit defensive. You wanted no secrets between us, no skeletons to creep out of the closet, and to remove all doubt in my mind how you felt about me. You had forsaken all for me. You were willing to sit there and face potential censure; I loved you for it.

In some ways we were very much similar (still are), and in other ways we were as different as night and day. I loved you then and I love you now for all your faults. I love your intelligence and higher level of thinking. I am amazed at all your strengths. Your talents fill me with pride. Your tenderness and love leave me weak and breathless and, as you well know – stuttering-ly stupid (inside joke).

I accept everything about you. I love all the torn and tarnished pieces that make up you. There is only one Sir. Only one.

With all humility,

Darling

……………………………………………………………………..

My Humble Darling

What on earth do I say to such a post? Yes I had some ex girlfriends. Yes I had a pictorial record of some of them. I was then now, and am to this day, in contact with some of them. Purely platonically I might add.

The one thing I am mighty sure of was that I did not do this to preempt any questions you might have. You had already asked all the questions! I had answered them truthfully. You tell this tale like you were some innocent who never knew I had such a colourful past. If I didn’t know better my love I would swear you were trying to manipulate the truth for your own ends (smiles). It reminds me of behaviour I would expect from a certain English acquaintance of yours.

Oh I know this would have been quite the visual reinforcement for you. To see them there staring back at you from the page would not be easy, just as it was not easy for me to show you. I did want then, as I still want now, to be completely honest with you. I know that brings some pain in the short term but it’s much healthier than finding out something you weren’t expecting later.

I am humbled that you can look beyond my chequered past. We are the same in many ways but as we both know there are some quite glaring fundamental differences in our make up. I have never doubted, before or since, that you were prepared to accommodate them and so was I.

I love you now and I loved you then my Darling, even if I am a rogue.

You Will Always Be Me Darling

From A Roguish Sir With Love

——————————————————————————————-

My Dear Reformed Sir,

I am sure I can’t even begin to presume your motives in pointing out the 2-D proofs of your past dalliances. You are correct though. We had the “talk” about our pasts before I even left my country, but to be quite fair I never gave it much thought until yours was staring up at me from the pages of a photo album.

You know as well as I do, Mr. Sir, that one cannot simply manipulate you. I pity the poor fool/s who even make such an attempt (English acquaintances included). I am giggling at the thought of personally trying. You’d just throw your head back and laugh that infectious laugh of yours.

You said something this morning on the phone that brought tears to my eyes. I had stated that I had wished you had married someone (instead of the cow you did) that would have made me pale in comparison – someone who added upon and not took away from your small family i.e. you and your parents. You immediately responded that there wasn’t such a woman – that no one compared to me and never would. You are not one for false praise or pretense. I am the one who is humbled.

I don’t care about your past with the exception of the small part I was able to share with you. I only want you to be happy and healthy and to never forget how deeply I love you.

Painstakingly yours,

Darling

©2013 Darling and Sir

Smile For Me

Written by Darling for Sir. She always says to him “smile for me.”

.

Smile for me

Because I can feel it

In my soul

.

It permeates my soul

And fills my whole being

With warmth

.

Your warmth comforts me

And embraces me completely

In you

.

You are so beautiful

And very real

So smile for me

.

By Darling ©2013 TSL

Purge

Sometimes new information brings up old feelings, and I just needed to vent.

 

I knew about her when we first met

But you assured me I was the one

Then you changed your mind and looked elsewhere

You were through with me; you were done

.

How fast you fell into her arms

It was cruel of you to gloat

I wasn’t aware it was a game

She won – you had to boast

.

My heart in shatters I walked away

My feelings to preserve

I must confess the way I feel now

You both ended up with whom you deserved

.

By Darling ©2013 TSL