The code that unlocks the door to intimacy? Not sex necessarily, but an interaction with another human being that surpasses the physical realm and enters the twilight zone of contentment, of the sublime. I imagine a midi-chlorian mosh pit where the sensation of touch is the gateway drug of choice, and I am an addict.
No, not an addict. I am an explorer, a woman in a space suit blasted into an unfamiliar landscape still getting her bearings and gathering data.
The code could be as simple as a declarative statement said in passing, “I’m sleeping in late this weekend.”, or an enthusiastic “let’s take a nap!” This last requires no answer just an immediate response. Proximity and elapsed time since the sentence is uttered is everything with the statement proclamation.
Too slow…no go.
Subtle clues are dropped like bread crumbs in a rain storm, often too subtle for my ever probing, ever in-the- present antennae to pick up on.
Sometimes I’m just dense. I am the proverbial bull in a china shop focused on my own needs tipping the balance of a delicate moment.
Sometimes it’s a question like “Are you sleepy?” which requires the right answer for admittance.
More often than not the question is followed by one of my own, “What are my options?”
In your eyes I see the tumblers fall into place and the key turns.
Craving intimacy like the proverbial man in the desert craves water I formulate questions of my own.
What’s too often? What’s considered too much? Where are the hard limits? The soft ones? Where can I push out the edges? I plague myself with these questions early in the morning as you sleep in the crook of my arms.