He sat on the ground in front of her; she let her shins touch the back of his shoulder. He turned, placing his palms on her ankles, she smiled and choked on her breath. He glared at her as he placed his lips on the inside of her right knee, pushing his kiss against her to slowly slide her leg open. He grabbed the waist of her shorts, “Slide these off.” She raised her legs above his head and slid them toward her ankles, her bits and pieces on proud display. She spread her legs on either side of him once they were off.
He placed his hands just above her knees, his thumbs on the inside of her thighs. “Slide toward me.” She slid down the couch toward him, his hands barely touching her flesh as her legs glided past his hands. He gently squeezed the soft space just before her center as she stopped. The brusque cruelty of his stopping just before made her hips rise. Warmth was apparent near her wetness. “This will be long. And slow.”
Past 2am the sadness numbs the pads of my fingers. Numbs the ends of my tongue. Nerve endings realize a new found sensation and behave as though they will never burn away. Past 2am the sadness greets me though it never left, and tricks the body into believing it unconquerable. The rhythm I needed to move with the sadness was heavy in bass and gentle in melody, like a thundering rapid charging toward the rocky cliffs of an approaching falls.
Don’t treat people’s souls as pet projects, don’t disappear when you realize you won’t get a chance to parade yourself around as the one who ‘fixed’ someone .. You’ve no right to treat other’s pain as a means to your own self inflated end.
I’ve loved many. I will love many more. Each woman warps time and light around me, making each passing breath last the age of a star. Each began with a frightening and overwhelming birth, and ended with a relentless and meaningful death. Each new pair of eyes and beating…
He didn’t need to find a temple nor theatre.. the notes of his soul were for him alone. Approval, audience, audacity.. relics of an age long purged. Now the quiet stillness of each passing second and his passing breath fueled the blood through his veins.