Dancing on Tenderhooks

I cautiously dance with you, because this brings those tremors on that I both so desperately desire and fear. You, I know, will take as much of me, both body and soul, as you want. You will be watching me, closely, carefully, always – this I know also - absorbing my reactions and words and emotions that I will sometimes fight to hold, hold as mine, when they should be yours.

I sometimes close my eyes as my breath releases as I think of you. You will hurt me and make me cry, and sob more than I can likely imagine, though I will struggle with that, too. The pleasure will come as well, desired somewhat more than the pain. How is it that I can ask that of you, to take me, completely, to you? Why does this become me so well?