Bubble Up Kisses

"Your kisses aren't what they used to be," he told me.

I had been slipping aside or pulling away, reluctant to engage a full-on kiss, and he wanted to know what was going on.

"I like to give you kisses," I said.   There were other people around ~ we were going to get interrupted ~ and I didn't know exactly what words would carry my meaning ....

The next time we met, we had a few moments alone.

"You still don't want to kiss?" he asked as we stood cheek to cheek.

"I like our kisses," I said, "but I don't like them taken for granted."

"That's why I waited this time."

"I noticed."

With his arms around me, we were nose to nose, and I breathed his essence, felt his ease with the moment and his delight to be sharing it with me ~ o sweetness!   His delight sparks my delight and fires up a mutual delight spiral.   I felt the energy between us mingle, and my lips tilted into his.   Swirling, breath-taking, this was like our first kiss, with fireworks popping off and making me dizzy.

He was turned on, too.

I call them bubble up kisses, because they bubble up to the top when they are ready, like bubbles from the bottom of a pot of water warming on the stove.   If you stir the pot when the bubbles on the bottom are tiny, you get tiny little pops at the top.   But if you wait and let the heat build, let it take the time it needs, the bubbles on the bottom get bigger and bigger until their buoyancy makes them bubble up by themselves.

Or you could say they ripen.   After you pick the first ripe mulberries of the season, you have to wait for the next ones.   Impatience gets you pale, sour mulberries that aren't what they used to be.   But if you wait, they become dark and sweet and soft and juicy ~ they melt in your mouth and you feel the buzz of the sun soak into your tongue.   Birds aren't the only ones who get drunk on really ripe berries.

If you try to pick a mulberry that isn't ready yet, you need to pull it ~ it resists ~ but a fully ripe mulberry drops into your hand with just a touch, a suggestion.

And if you try to take a kiss that isn't ready, you need to hunt it and chase it and pull it from her lips ~ but a fully ripe kiss drops right into your mouth like it was always meant to be there.


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Image credit: Bubbles wallpaper 4787

Silence, Eloquence

In a tender moment,
let silence s t r e t c h
into resilience,
eloquence.

When words get awkward,
give them rest from weary work,
from tiresome demands
for precision,
discrimination,
explanation,
completion.

Words are overworked and underqualified
to carry our deepest messages ~~
to carry truth pure and real
from one heart to another.

Hold beyond nerves,
beyond tension,
beyond that grinding habit
of dumping words into aural spaces ~~

delicate aural spaces

that yearn for

silence:

vibrant,
round and ringing,

resounding,

and
singing   ~ ~




those
profound
pulses




of silence.

My Four-Wing Is Showing

We were sitting in the Thai deli eating lunch when I told Teo What I Want From Sex, (in short, stardust and magic), and he smiled at me and said, "Your Four-wing is showing."

I didn't catch the reference at first, and thought maybe a shoulder is like a forewing and my sleeve was torn and gaping.   Then I remembered that canards might be called forewings, and wondered where the corresponding point would be (a moustache? ~ what?! I HAVE A MOUSTACHE?! ~ ears? collarbone?)   Teo noticed all the gizmos grinding in my brain, and filled in the missing piece, "Your enneagram Four-wing."

Ahhhhhhh.... yes, it all snapped together and I laughed with relief.   It had been a long time since we had talked about the enneagram, and even longer since we talked about me having a Four-wing.

I used to laugh it off.   I thought I was quite unlike a Four.   Fours are so dreamy, so lost in their imaginations, so, um, romantic, from the shooting stars above their heads to the flower petals below their feet.   In fact, some enneagrammers give the label Romantic to the Four.  But this time I couldn't easily dismiss it.   Just recently I wrote that Yes, I'm a Romantic plus the subtitle/intropoem of this blog says "this is the essence of love and romance."   I chewed over these thoughts and remembered how indulgent these writings are to dreams and imagination, in other words, to Four types.

So, yes, dear Teo, I do concur.   I do have a Four-wing, and it's been growing lately.   This blog has been devoted to its exercise and, as a result, its accelerated growth and development.   After listening to Teo talk about his own tendencies about intimacy and sex (Teo's an Eight), I decided it would be a good idea to branch out to more facets of love and romance, of intimacy and sex.   People of all types bond, and they bond in their own special ways.   It's a bit narrow to ignore all those other ways of bonding and sharing, so I plan to broaden the scope of coverage to include lovers of many stripes, not just romantics.

Originally I figured everyone needed their romantic nature nourished, perhaps even revived, and I still believe that.   But now I figure a good way to do that is to support and nourish their life nature and also supply doses to fortify their romantic nature.

A translation of the paragraph above: every enneagram type has at least a little bit of each of the other types, including the Four.   But each type lives and loves differently, so each main type needs to be supported along with the bit of Four.   If you would like more attention for your own enneagram type, write to me and tell me about your situation.


~ with love from Jolene

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Image credit: The Enneagram Institute