You are my treasure…

You are my treasure…

My lovely lady loved a slow Sunday and to bath for many hours in a hot bubble bath, jazz music and little conversation. I would wash her hair in silence, I would wash her back soft and gently.  I would soap-up her feet, her ankles and legs. Her eyes stayed closed and I adored the view of her in her deep mediation.

She loved the silence more than wasted words. She told me. Love need proof, love needs reminders. Words are just words. Kind and gentle hands on wanting skin. Is what Sunday should be, what the kindness of love should be.

I knew beneath her slumbering eyes. She was a restless soul and she had a Gypsy heart. She had taught me to suicide board the Winter storms and free-climb the California fault line. She is my miracle and wonder.

I adored her milky white skin, I adored her long legs and her raven tattoo on her back. I kissed the butterflies tattoos on her pretty feet. I knew she was like the free wind that caressed the people faces who loved the sea. She was my wanderlust dreams and my lady who love to dance alone to the Jazzy songs in the midnight hours.

She told me often. Don’t trifle with useless things. Life is to be lived. Let’s find Big Sur, let’s get bare-ass and dance with the Pacific.

I told her. I would follow you anywhere and she smiled and she whispered. I would follow you my kind man. We are just soulful people seeking peace and beauty in our in wild world.

Dancing Coyote