Climb on top, swing one leg over each of her hips... thighs squeezing her waist tight. I wonder what the weight of me feels like for an instant, but instead try to focus on what is under me and what it feels like to NOT have the weight of anything ON me. For once, I'm the "top spider" when usually I've been the "bottom spider" on the swing. Oh the delight in being able to be versatile on the swing.
Leaning back to go higher, and pushing forward to come down... rocking, pumping, grinding, pulsing, pushing ... we swing higher and higher. Neither of us fearful of what lies below us, both of us aware that the possibility of falling exists.
Leaning, pushing, rocking, pumping, grinding, pulsing... trusting.
As high as we get, we each know that is as hard as we may fall... so we trust. We must. Right?
The swing stops, we catch our breath, and I ask to become the "bottom spider" again...