Whales sing to entice a lover.
All I have are my words, clumsy attempts that never quite manage to fully express how I feel.
God forbid I allow you access to my innermost hopes and dreams. I'd sooner brandish a sword, like a lusty pirate wench, to keep you at bay.
And yet, when you sit cross legged on the floor, playing your mandolin, I want to rip apart my disguise with my bare hands, stand naked before you, and allow you to invade my most private thoughts and places.
The rain beats against the window; I light candles in case the electricity goes. They encircle the room, glowing like so many wishes just waiting to be made. I turn towards you. You've stopped playing and put your instrument aside, your arms open wide to me. I approach, silently, apprehensively, like a curious cat. You smile your crooked, goofy smile, reaching towards me. I stop in front of you, unzipping my dress, letting it fall to the ground. A bolt of lightening, the lights go out, then a marvelous crash of thunder.
Not an invasion, more like an unconditional surrender.
