Oh get fucked

I love the scent of a woman. And I'm not talking about the film with Al Pacino. Although Al was quite good, I fucking hate that Chris O'Donnell weasel.

I love the scent of a nape. Women's shampoo does something to me. That gentle cascading sweet smell that wraps itself airily around their neck and shoulders. That hair that keeps it in, keeps me in.

Lips drive me crazy. The tiny little creases that run through them like a postcode of rivers. The form. The way they pinch gently at the ends and move like waves in a beautiful red sea to soft peaks. I love the detail of lips. I love ther potential. I lock eyes on them and they take me somewhere else. My vision, peripheral, loses its clarity and takes a dive into soft focus, clearing the way for a rich intensity of the lips. I love their promises. I love their lies, I love their sex. I hear them and they lose me in a dream. In a sleep. In a woman. They speak to me through both sound and touch and occasionally they leap the boundaries of possibility and they speak to me via love.

I get lost in kisses. I was lost in a girls this morning. The perfection of movement like liquid on liquid. Like moonlight over sea, gentle. The silk of the thigh, the childlike clumsiness of the knee, the tenderness of the breast. I was lost in eyes this morning. Lost in lips. Lost in passion. Lost in that smell. That warm air. That female-ness-ness. Oh man! I want it all. I want it always.

I love that a woman makes me feel so man. I love the feeling, the sight, the act of fingers and soft hands and manicured nails through chest hair. Makes me feel like a man. Makes me want to take care of you, makes me want to merge into your breath, saturate your skin and dive into you. I want to swim in you, stroke upon stroke, riding our synchronised breath like tiny warm passionate waves into you, over you, like a falling sheet.

Women are glorious. They paint my eyes with colour. They cushion my mind and gently lead my thoughts to the softest of places. I could walk on your breath, on your touch, I could live for days on end in your devastating beauty. You are truly the greatest creation.

You make it feel ok to be man, you make it right. Because with you man has purpose, has gentle strength, you strip man away til there is only man, man himself. Naked, laid bare, heart skipping, firing on woman, with you man is capable of directing his strength into something creative, something soft, something special, where he can truly be him, without fear, without ego.

I love women. I love what they make me feel, I love the changes they cause in me, I love the spirit they release in me, I love the focus I drift out of until the focus is you, yet effortless.

Thanks for being glorious. Thanks for softening me endlessly. Thanks for your gift. Thanks for making me safe, and tender and showing me the way home. Thanks for you life, and the love you give, thanks for not trusting us, thanks for wanting to.

Thanks for an eternity of inspiration, its in our paintings, and our music, in our books, and our pictures, in our film, and our hearts and our souls. Its in the deepest of our souls, and it is always wonderment, it is not always clear, but it is always with love that we find you.

Thanks for the kisses, you know who you are. Thanks for your heart, and your honesty and your breath. You are inspiring.

See you ladies on the flip side.

*Spits on floor*

*Puts on 'rage against the machine'*