Caramel

Last night I saw something that’s rarely found on TV shows these days.

Conflicted, almost desperate restraint in the face of burning hot desire.

Wow.

It was on Philly, a drama series centred on the law practice of Kathleen McGuire, played by Kim Delaney. In last night’s episode, Kathleen and a judge, Augustus Ripley, a.k.a. Jack, finally gave in to a sexual tension so thick you could cut through it, feeling the delicious resistance that only a rich, gooey, caramelly-dessert-thing can give.

It was just a kiss in the basement parking lot. Oh, but what a kiss.

For all the crap we put up with in our lives, everyone should experience, at least once in their lifetime, a momentary release of a desire so intense that it leaves you breathless and with slightly wobbly knees. For just a heartbeat, to lift the lid on that emotional Pandora’s box and unleash a host of physical pleasures, then to have to force yourself to slam it shut, for whatever reasons that your circumstances demand.

In memory of one afternoon in November 2002;

Caramel
by Suzanne Vega

It won't do
to dream of caramel,
to think of cinnamon
and long for you.

It won't do
to stir a deep desire,
to fan a hidden fire
that can never burn true.

I know your name,
I know your skin,
I know the way
these things begin;

But I don't know
how I would live with myself,
what I'd forgive of myself
if you don't go.

So goodbye,
sweet appetite,
no single bite
could satisfy...

...

But I don't know
what I would give of myself,
how I would live with myself
if you don't go.