I stand out among the congregation.
Men in button up white
(occasionally blue)
shirts, ties, and khaki, blue, or black pants.
Women in long denim skirts and sweaters which show very little fragile, pale skin who spend their time controlling 5 kids (under the age of 4, mind you), while their husbands make conversation to another man.
There I sit.
My knee length skirts shows tan, soft legs, my shoes make my back curve, my tank top dips low to show ivory breasts, and my body presses against yours.
Although you have thrown yourself at conformity, obedience, and appear as all the other men do, I look into your soft blue eyes and see your soul.
Your complex, loving, kind, intelligent, questioning man that I know holds me...
notices my ivory breasts...
feminine hands...
smooth legs...
and spunky uncontrollable red hair...
And Loves It.
They've told you not to kiss- but I see your wet, red lips and urge to touch them with mine, pull them playfully, and feel their sweet masculinity. I believe that you want to feel mine - slick and slippery with gloss, plump with fat, and my tongue with it's odd markings, dips, and texture.
I will spend my life with you, Jake, and If I Must, I will conform too - as long as you allow your spirit out - free to run, make love, and play. God gave us these bodies to discover the amazing things we can do with them. Once married, I was to feel every inch of you and your soul - and I want you to do the same with me. Can we conform and be Spirited?
