The Long-Awaited Kiss

[or Take Me Back to Yearning]

She absorbed his words as they flowed from his soul to her

receptive ears. She nodded to receive his thoughts…as they embraced her warmly.

Her eyes rested for a while on his lips---- as they spoke with a mesmerizing nuance. The rise and fall of their timbre lulled her whirlwind

thoughts to a still….

…as she wished her heart would be.

She spoke. She paused. She sipped her tea…. her mind was seeking her quiet

center to bring her back to herself. It was so deathly quiet inside her heart.

He had stopped, and carefully, so artfully trained were his pauses and paces…. he knew he had but one chance. Only one. God, he

prayed, lead me to full receptivity of your Grace. Your intent.

He laid his hand on the table, mere inches from her own. She glanced down as the soul in her fingertips silently screamed to his. ‘O, reach out for me’. He did not. He spoke again, as he ignored what she needed. From him. Alone.

She stood to bid him a sweet adieu, ‘don’t do it,’ she screamed in her thoughts. She needed how she needed it….and that was to wait. Her anticipation was icing on a cake; the promise so sweet.

How long could she sit before the tempting dessert, and wait with all the patience of unending yearning?

He sat in silence, as he waited for the answer from her for the question he never really asked. And a curious thing he witnessed before him…

she slowly reached out and touched his hand,

slid her index finger from his wrist to his middle finger

and slowly licked the icing off her finger as it brushed her lips…

the promise yet unfulfilled…but she smiled.

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