Memento Mori (MikaYuu)

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...I learned something about the meaning of "innocence" last night... I saw it, touched it and I tasted it that night in the back of my truck... I held it in my arms as it slept and let it have sweet dreams encased from all the warmth I could distribute from my own body to it.

To his.

I am brainwashed as a teenager like every other. I felt cleansed experiencing for myself something that is so misunderstood and abused in the nature that I was raised... The vulgarity of me; the inappropriate things I do.

Tonight was not and will never be inappropriate to me, as it should be the same for him. I didn't find it inappropriate at all because there was innocence. There was an innocent body below me experiencing the power of mind and body and it was nothing like I've ever sensationalized before from the tip of my tongue to my fingertips and toes. It was incomparable to any misinterpretations crammed in my head and shielded over my vision like the brainwashing. It was real. It was so real.

You don't know real until every sense has experienced it.

Touch; The skin I felt under my fingers... The soft midnight hair I ran my fingers through and pulled... The lips I brushed my thumb over... The body I held in my grasp and pulled close as it trembled right in my own two hands from what I emitted to it... I touched his climax and his mind and emotions and I didn't abuse the power of it.

Taste; I am positive there is no one else on the planet who carries a taste like your lover... Yes, love. I love him. I love his taste. Oddly enough, from where he originated, his agenda, his areas... I tasted purity on the very tip of my tongue and felt its intensity. From someone so little... So young... Only one year younger than I but he has a mind somewhere far else from here... When I tasted his purity from the tip of my tongue and dove in deeply as his legs wrapped around me and his body responded immediately with shudders of orgasmic heaven as if we were not two but one... Pulling him closer to stay as deeply connected as I must've - for the sounds...

Hear; What I heard... I heard... Exploration. I heard gratitude. I heard amazement. I heard pleasure and most shockingly I heard love. What I experienced was not a joke. It was powerful and I fell in love harder because of it. It's terrifyingly strong yet never so graceful of who it invites to experience what's behind its closed doors: love. And affection. Something about a voice in a wordless manner, that calls for you in a certain way and mood - it captivates you, and it drugs you. It narcotizes you and tosses you in a pool of whatever is moaned, laughed, cried or screamed, and you are either in bliss or in hell in that pool. I was in heaven. A voice of innocence was finally speaking to me after all the evil and nonsense from everyone else... That voice touched me and caressed me in every way I never thought possible to the point where it extended my consciousness and wellbeing. I sense and recognize more in life than I have ever after sex.

Scent; I smell soap... I smell bubbles, I smell sweat, I smell something I can't smell on anyone else. It's... Dark. Yet light. It's serious. Yet playful. It's lustful. But pure. It's everything and its polar opposites that no one else smells like but someone as specific as my boyfriend - him. I smelled scents I never thought I'd become lustful over. Skin, hair - I could smell actual love. Which is peculiar. It smells different to everyone else I bet, but different to him and I. When I close my eyes and feel my lashes going down the goosebumps on his arm as I inhale that one-of-a-kind scent - I enter this place called sensual paradise.

Sight; I saw innocence. I saw a body lined with a delicate layer of purity, virginity, and anything ethereal you could ever see in one moment. Expressions that mean far more to a human mind than a human eye. Sights and areas of his body that I saw that I either needed to protect or pleasure or both. The sight of him becoming overcome with such a powerful sensation is innocent to me. It's new to him. It introduced itself and made an unforgettable impression in his nerves and mind. And it didn't leave a brainwash or a bad mark. It left a reminder most neglect:

I am innocent, and I am pure. Do not abuse me or destroy me. I am here to bless your love, not to temporarily heal you. I am innocent, not sinful.

A near month crossed by and I still see the bruises from my lips and teeth collared around his neck and even under his goofy smile. I see he is more affectionate and mature and from this I know he knows far better now because he has learned.

And I know better now. I know what innocence means. And it's a precious thing. It is not to be destroyed. Even in the small traces of blood lined in the sheets I discovered when I lifted him from the trunk floor the same night, his innocence and purity weren't ruined. I'm never going to ruin it for him or let anyone else do such a thing.

And I just pray to God that he doesn't destroy his own innocence.