Slamming the bedroom door, I am so mad, so hurt. I had to get away from you before I said something that I would forever regret. Standing in the bedroom, all alone, I hear the first strands of Ravel. Ahh, Bolero, our song. We have made love to that song so many times, but it still tugs at my heart and desires. As I stand there listening to the building crescendo of the music, I realize one major thing. You are my life, my love and this is a very silly fight. Wiping my tears, I smile. I will not fight with you or against you, I decide. Our time together is too short.
Washing my face, brushing my hair, then totally undressing, I think of you and listen to the music. The music plays on, relentlessly, as I turn back the covers of the bed. Ah, the music, stirring my heart, my soul.
Calling to you softly, I stretch my naked body on the bed. This wonderful four poster bed that is ours and ours alone. The pillows that cradle our heads, so soft. The comforter that keeps us warm after our passion is spent, so smooth. Our bed.
As you open the door, I whisper, โLover, please come to me. Letโs not fight.โ
I can see the love, the desire for me in your eyes as you slowly cross the room to me. I hold open my arms, inviting you into them. I watch you as you slowly undress, revealing the body that I yearn for with a burning passion that scares me.
โCome to meโ, I whisper again as I take you into my arms. โThis is where you belongโ.