I am aware of your presence, aware of your scent, aware of your breathing. It doesn’t matter what I am doing, how I feel, or where I am, the moment you step into the room, I am aware of your essence and am drawn to it. I soften, loosen my grip on the otherwise ever present tension and self control which is so necessary in the world today. My spine bends, allowing flexibility. I am not longer stone, but water.
You stand behind me and I am aware of your heat before you place a hand on the small of my back. I am aware of your taste before your lips touch mine. I am aware of your power before you say a single word.
Your eyes catch mine for just an instant before someone else draws you into
mundane conversation. It’s a moment of time. It’s an eternity. In that single glance I see that you are aware of your effect on me. You know I would drop to my knees right here in front of all these people circulating about, speaking of nothing, a lubricating drink in their hands. Their presence is no longer a part of my world other than know you expect me to behave in a certain manner. You continue speaking, not to me, but I see your nostrils flare and know that you are aware of my own musky scent which, before you arrived, was buried deep inside of me.
You lean down, tuck my hair behind my ear, and whisper, “Are you aware of what awaits you at home, my wife?”
I shudder. Yes. I am very aware of what awaits me.
Anarie Brady 