<thud>
<thud>

I lie here, internal monologue hushed,
mind surrendered to serenity by a mental image conjured,
deliberately conjured to sooth.
My head resting on His chest,
His arms around me wrapped,

my eyes closed,
my wrists bound.
I smile to myself; I love when His hand encircles my wrist, a quiet act of dominance, effect soporific.

I’m taking for myself a moment to prepare before the storm of anticipation
<thud>
<thud>
<thud>
of seeing Him once again begins.

I imagine His words, I almost believe I can hear them
“Are you ready to tell me what you are?”
<thud>
<thud>
an exacting phrase spoken to me in the moments before we dynamically reconnect.

<THUD>
<THUD>

My calm begins to melt away, nerves start to hum, adrenalin begins to flood my veins.
The anticipation of Him makes my hands shake, I can almost feel His hand on my face.

I turn my head to meet it, but He’s not here,
yet.
Soon, I tell myself.
Soon.

Concentration lost to thoughts of us.
The fire, the passion, the ….
No,
my mind cannot capture nor hold focus on one singular thing.

All I’m aware of is the thundering of my nervous, distracted, adrenalin-fuelled heart.

<breathe>
<self, compose>

<THUD>
<THUD>
<THUD>

And so it begins……..