the man of her dreams

He came to her in her dreams.  At first a gentle zephyr … a little breath of wind tugging at her unconscious mind. Then he took shape; solid and real.  A great sasquatch of a man, who gathered her up in his arms, and filled her with love and hope.  “Delicious Angel,” he breathed and she unfurled like a delicate flower and laid her head upon his beating heart.  She felt his love fuse into her body and communicate with her soul. Safe and warm she breathed in his essence; sourced from the earth itself; natural and wild, sprinkled with beauty from every creature that had ever lived.  Her eyes filled with joyful tears, and as they peppered her cheeks, he gently brushed them away. “Cry, little one,” he murmured, ‘cry for the joy of life and the wonder of what is yet to come. Do not despair, fill yourself with hope and love and nothing else will matter.”

She looked at him with sadness in her eyes. “I wish I’d met you long ago. I could feel that something was missing, but I didn’t know what it was.  So I made my choice, believing it would fill that emptiness inside of me.  And it did for a while.  But I lost all sense of myself.  Put aside my dreams. And now I am committed to a lifetime of responsibility.  Oh, sasquatch! Truth and love surges through me, when I think of you and all that you stand for.  And I stretch and stretch until I feel I will burst, but I am trapped … I cannot be freed, until I have met my responsibilities on earth.”

“Then I shall wait for you delicious Angel … up there in the mountains you love so much.  Free your spirit now and then and soar with me over the peaks and delight in being free; and when you feel the pull of obligation, go back for a while and do what you feel is important.  But remember, I will always be with you; in your heart and soul, for we are connected. We have known each other in other times and places, long ago … and we will always recognise each other, wherever we find ourselves.”

And as quickly as he appeared, he vanished and she felt the sharp pang of loss like a knife cutting through to the soul.  She awoke, trembling, filled with joy and love, but overwhelmed with sadness.   She gathered her husband in her arms and pressed her head upon his chest.  Confused by her tears, he told her he loved her.  “You mustn’t cry,” he said, “everything is okay.”  And he snuggled into her and fell back to sleep.  But somehow she didn’t feel okay.

Deep in her soul, she felt something stirring. A burst of energy that forced her to twist and contort. Oh how she wished she could shed her skin and be free. Then she remembered the unconditional love of the man of her dreams, and a sudden calmness washed over her.  She closed her eyes once more, and drifted into a peaceful sleep.


Have I told you yet?

All I need is your gentleness. Caress my warm soft breasts and watch the nipples harden. But do not touch. Not yet. Hold your lips to my forehead. Kiss me. Make sure your breath is sweet. Trail your fingers up and down my thighs. Then cup me. Do not mistake my cry for hunger. I have stuff to sort out. Wetness comes without my knowledge. Dip your fingers there and wonder. Once more my body betrays me.  I am not wild for sex. That is your fantasy. For now I want your touch. Your understanding. Your love. Have I told you yet?

Mandy Edwards (c) 2017