One day the heart I've lost sight of
The sins I repeatedly leave behind to be forgotten
That fosters into mistakes in this tainted love
Construct my paradise with the rubble
Forbidden lover...a faint memory
Even if I hold them tightly, the colors don't
I discreetly swear
The end of sweet love is unanticipated mischief.
Enclosed by the high burning blaze
My life seized in the overturned boat
Frightened eyes looking up toward heaven
Screaming the name of god.
It hadn't taken much. Her small hands sliding from his shoulder to the collar of his shirt, reaching up on tip-toe to smooth the rumpled white edge down, patting it down with delicate fingers. His eyes followed the line of her outstretched arm, turning up to the exposed skin of her throat, the thin material of her nightgown.
Simple. White. A touch of lace at the hem and fluttering against the modest neckline. He licked his lips, dragged his eyes away, tried to as she smiled. That sweet sweet smile that so easily made him nod, kept him quiet and therefore led him to agree with all of her demands.
Stay with me. She had said. You can visit.. Just a short stay. He'd have to leave in a day. But I don't mind. And then the smile came. And the small hand at his arm. Like now. And he'd nodded.
Her nails were painted a clear pink and cut short. He kept his gaze on the pale skin of her...
How I need it to bleed when she digs in her teeth
But such fear is not real
And this warmth is all I ever want to feel
In the dark, I could vaguely make out the line of her throat, the soft curves of her breasts beneath the thin white cloth of her nightgown. In the pitch black I could ignore the stubborn upturn of her chin, the shape of her face so similar to my own.
In the dark I could pretend that her ash brown hair was not the same silken texture, that the shape of her eyes, the arch of her eyebrows didn't resemble mine. Without the light, I could place my hand against her thigh, could run my cold fingers up to her hip, could pull the thin strap of the gown down; licking the edge of her collar.
And so I did. I bit the tender skin and she let out a small gasp as her hands lost themselves in my hair. I dragged my teeth up to the pulse of her throat, let my fingers sink into...
She touched / My arm / And smiled
One of these days / Soon / Very soon / Love you 'til then
Feel my breath / On your neck / And your heart / Will race
Don't say no to me / You can't say no to me / I won't see you / Denied
I'm sorry you saw that / I'm sorry he did it
An echo / A stain
I can't say no to you
He collapsed into the plushness of the chair. His arms draped off the cloth-lined wood, fingers unclenched and limp. Neck touching the back of the chair, his hair fell in thick lines, the shorter layers toward the front brushing along the stark whiteness of his dress-shirt. His hair was practically gleaming in the pale light of the room, smelling of cigarettes and tissue-searing vodka. Remnants of cologne clung to his skin still and he took in a staggered breath.
She'd dropped to her knees in front of him, head bowed while she removed his boots. He groaned a bit, possibly mumbling an incoherent sentence, but he wasn't sure. Thoughts chipped away at his consciousness with dull hammers. And the pain did not dull with the sudden weight of her petite fingers on his thigh.
WHY CAN'T I JUST KEEP WRITING?