Sweat infused with sweat came riding upon the soft night breeze, sliding through the ebony air; bringing with it the scents and perfumes of faraway and exotic places. The continent of Us where union was shared and passion blazed through the rolling waves that lapped and endured with the temperate tides at the beach of Now.
And how the tall trees shook and rocked as the churning wind rushed through them; clinging from it intoxication for our senses, sensual pollen released. Released…released.
In the broken silence of Monday night, the incensed symphony of sound and sweat and passion and desire, the unbroken breath of truth begged upon hands and knees for us to realize its beauty. Simplicity and instinct. Ah that depth to which we sank with stones tied to our decorum; and how relaxed we were to sink to that ocean, upon the beach of Now; the western coast of the continent of Us.
Parting from these natural shores, eyes ever westward we sailed to the peninsula of Dream on the angel-wing blown tempest of Sleep; whence we found ourselves clinging to the memory of that soft, lost land of Us. Where a moment is a lifetime and will not allow us to pass unscarred, unmarked and taunted for it will often blow its breeze so we never forget. And never forgive the time spent upon the beach of Now.
Now a memory as precious as a pearl.