I have become him, his words, his warmth in breath, his fear has eaten me.
Fear itself is a commodity far too many waste foolishly, it has become my comfort. More than love we know fear, control fear, bow down to fear, serve up your emotions and invite fear to ravage the blackened buffet of life, I know fear and I have decided to heed my thoughts . I can feel his breath on my neck, again I return to the reality that is before me, sinking again into the memories which stand alone as a reminder. I long to be at his embrace, I fall into the security of two strong arms wrapped around me, two in one sanctuary. I know what he’s done, and will do again, but still the heat runs black in veins of passion.
“Don’t you worry, I will never let you go” His voice so strong and enchanting.
Love feeds the embrace and I fall into his spell. The smell of his breath passing over my ears mixes with eternity, ecstasy and his passions sweat dripping down my back, his lips against my neck, I close my eyes and our lives are in that moment one. I forget the reasons and long for his lips, his hands to caress my body, as if I too am beautiful to him. I turn to greet the awaiting lips with mine to find I am alone, the memory so real he is as he always was a mirage of my thirst. I cry for the first time since he left, and cannot stop. I kneel in front of the window, the same window who’s gentle dew has cooled a fiery pain, with water drawn tears I pier out hoping to find him waiting there again, hoping to see him one last time, if he could only hear me;
“WHY?” I wail out at the top of my lungs heaving into a ball at the mercy of my mind again.
He enters through the threshold of what was the dining room, a tiny area just within the door, caring the same black strap, only this time I don’t see him or sense the onset of my memory, only the first piercing blow reminds me he is still here.
“It is a BOY.” He begins slowly, striking my upper back, never too fast; it isn’t within his nature to get to a point to quickly. “Who CRYS from RAIN” I hear his voice, feel his tortured blows, too real to be an image within my mind “a BOY to remain”
I turn to see his eyes crying too, green like unripe jade, smoking with laughter and pride, but piercing with saddens despondency. His beautiful eyes completely attached yet ‘distant with manifestations of sugared venom’. He once said that, so true.
“A BOY AFRAID of THUNDER” the words never departing his glossy lips, just as I remembered they had been.
Once more directly across my shoulders I feel the strikes which cause a black spot in my vision, a familiar black vision I so distantly remembered somehow. Relentless he brings the strap around my neck and in the moment I can not breathe…he grabs my mouth and like a hook to a fish, pulls my head over my right shoulder laying his tongue across my neck licking and kissing my shoulder with hot stinging excitement. I am infatuated with him he is my divinity, and I am merely a lark. His hands -delicate, could never hurt but rough to the touch and strong to the grasp- drag my soul beneath the moment and he recedes into the black green walls. I am left alone to question; why am I here? Is he torturing me or the memory? Was it love or deception? The black of my vision takes a turn at disappearance and it too recedes, some how I wish it wouldn’t. For some reason I feel, for the first time, alone.