The Montage - Sex Stories

The Montage

the montage I saw of glimpse of you here. And a glimpse of you there. And a little more here, And a little more there. And began to piece together the pieces, Until I had the depth of your image. The image started with the softness of your lips, As you kissed the souls of many. And seduced the known and the unknown. Your lips created the warmth of your smile, As you engaged the joy of a people, And spread your presence throughout. I stare into the fullness of your eyes, As you stare into the world. Both seeing and knowing simultaneously. Eyes that give vision to your story, Parts of which are shared, And parts of which remain untold. I see the compartments of your heart, As you allow some to enter, And others to depart. Both sharing and securing at the same time. Knowing who to lock out, And whom to lock in. I caught a glimpse of your soul, And saw the pen that was tethered to it. Whispering that your written word is your spirit, And that if one wants to see your soul, They need to meditate on your writings, For your pen gives life to your being. I saw the silhouette of the curve of your hips, Meet the indentation of your waist, As you reclined in the thoughts of time. I saw the curve move from your past to your present, But never totally devoid of either. As intellectual space melds into realities. I saw the smoothness of your legs fully stretched, As you extended and reached higher, Reaching for additional parts of yourself, That somehow are both within reach. And sometimes able to slip your grasp, The perpetual state of grasping for more. I saw a montage of you.