Justin’s POV (Point of View):
It’s three o’ clock in the morning. I should be sleeping right now because I have to go to the studio at six o’clock , but I can’t. So I’m here wide awake in bed beside Selena watching as the moonlight plays with the hills and valleys of her body as she breathes. If I could draw, I’d be sketching her right now. But instead my mind clings like dew to leaves to the image of her naked spread out for me. A feast of soft skin and flesh laid out on linen sheets and pillows. The moon has created these shadings on her body that only someone like Michelangelo could appreciate. There’s a play of light and dark that makes her body a priceless work of art. And she’s here with me, in our bed, sleeping soundly yet in anticipation of being wakened, touched and loved by me.
In my mind, I write and rewrite sonnets to the luscious quality of her skin, how it feels pressed up against mine. And the deep wells of her eyes, I get lost in them finding new ways to rediscover home. Brown pools of chocolate warming me from the inside out. I whisper melodies about her hair. Running my fingers through it is like gliding naked through the physical presence of midnight. My mind sings harmonies about the touch of her hand against my face as she kisses me, drowning me in sensation, making me feel as though there is nothing invading my body but her love for me.
Wanting her isn’t the point and having her isn’t enough. It’s like being intoxicated and my mind is swimming because nothing is real but the look in her eyes when I enter him. Our bodies become a furious pumping machine driving the other to the edge to ecstasy. And then diving head long into it and bathing there until the world makes us surface back into the reality of what is, not what is wished.
I’m like a junkie and she’s my drug of choice and I long for her all time and that’s something I never thought would happen to me. That I’d find someone who loved me the way she does with no fear and no hesitation. Someone who fights with me as she fights for me. Someone to whom I can sing praises to while being praised.
I’m not as alone as I once thought I was. There’s someone there willing to face all the ugly with me. Someone that makes all the ugly beautiful in spots so that I can get through it.
God I want her, I need her, I have to have her.
For her, I’m sinner and saint. I’m her lover and her willing whore. I’m anything she needs me to be. Fuck, I need another hit.
“Baby wake up.”
