Before You Leave
by Thom Garrett and Danna Colman
We are feeling sad as we sit in the living room saying our goodbyes. You and I are on the couch, and neither of us are saying a lot. There are tears rolling down my cheeks and yours, too. There’s really not much to say. You turn to me and hold my face in your hands before giving me a tender kiss on the mouth. You use your tongue to push my lips apart and flick it against the tip of mine, and my entire body throbs in response. You know how fragile I am right before you leave, but you push your tongue deeper into my mouth. I shift my shoulders to ease the feeling, and you pull me in closer and kiss me even more deeply. I feel your need for me in your kiss, your need to connect and need for my love. My head drops back and your lips follow down to my neck, kissing my throat. You taste the salt that is left from my tears, kissing my neck and then back to my lips.
Your hand brushes lightly across the front of my shirt and a moan escapes my lips as I hug you tighter. You move your hand over my hip and down my thigh, but I stop you short of where you want to touch me. I look into your eyes and see your anticipation, but you smile and kiss me with all the love in your heart, wrapping me in your arms and holding me like you will never let me go.
I want you so badly, but I know you’re leaving. I grab your head in both hands and press my open lips to yours, our kiss deep and wet, our hearts just as entangled as our bodies.
And then you pull back and look me in the eyes as you let me know it’s time to go. You tell me in whispers how much you love me, and how you love the taste, feel, and look of me. You say you’ll be back if that’s what I want, and I kiss you and smile into your eyes and give you the reassurance you’re looking for. You find my hand and bring it to your wet cheek. You kiss my palm, stand, and then walk out the door.