There is a pause between love-making, a pause just after foreplay and right before the final stage. A surprise bite here, an ominous lick there. Where you hold the others head in your hands and you gaze far too deep into their eyes. You see everything, want, need, must-have, should-not. You see love and desperation, but nothing as to who the person really is. This pause seems like eternity, you see. Sometimes I feel it lasts in your memory longer than the love-making itself. Even though it is pitch dark and all you have to go by is your own hyperventilated breath. Even though it may be the moment you lose or gain something you thought you never had. Even though it is not included in what they tell you when explaining adulthood.
Even so, there is a pause.
Find me that.