If I were a breeze,
I would be soft.
The soft breeze that slightly ruffles whispy fringes of one’s hair.
A breeze strong enough to cool perspiration on a brow,
while simultaneously lacking the strength to dry it.
I would smell faintly of salty air from the seashore
Mixed with tropical fruits and flowers.
The recipient of my ministrations would want both salt and sweet on their tongue
At the same time.
The wanting would be so subtle that he would not know it existed,
Even while he salivated slightly,
His eyes looking into the distance here,
At nothing in particular,
While Horizon met his gaze,
Leaving him hungry
With her distance.
And if he sensed this hunger,
And opened his mouth,
(This recipient whom I have chosen to adore,)
I would satisfy him.
He would inhale deeply,
And I would be absorbed into his body.
He would walk…
And I would smile
As he carried me away
Inside of him.