The Promises of Darkness
Darkness steals confidence. Or maybe it emboldens it.
The voice of conversation dims with the light.
Sunlight steals away the confidence of a speaker. Or maybe darkness emboldens it.
Words spoken in whispers. Whispers shared only with those worthy of sharing the night. Of sharing the darkness. There’s an intimacy in darkness. Intimacy shared with only a chosen few.
In the darkness, you are loved. You are aroused. You are afraid. So, you whisper, despite the cloak of night, hiding your imperfections. Only the imperfections of voice remain.
In the abundance of darkness its shadow both masks and exposes your true intentions. And with it, you don’t want to ruin the moment. Or draw the attention of those who might bring danger with them.
What is it about darkness, the night, that both opens us and closes us? More cover. More exposed.
Whisper Darkness
She leans into me. Her chest heating my own. Breath hot and damp, she presses lips to my right ear. Tingles surge to my left foot.
“I love you.”
Eyes open to remember the moment, but the lights are low. There’s nothing to see. Nothing to document. Nothing, but goosebump-inducing words.
