He holds her hand tonight like the finest
of pale china spiders and she feels his
eyes stroking her because the gaze
of eyes that see only her is so so
soft. She can't catch or keep
the time but this is the climax
just for her. The sublime ecstasy before
the evening leaves. He holds her hand
and strokes her with his eyes. Gentle
gentle. Keep that moment. Lock away the
whisper climax for later.
He borrows the night mystery for her
eyes, he tells her. He took so long to
create her from the beauty of the
orange streetlight glitter of the sidewalk
and sequins sewn into the pillow dreams
he wove her from. He tells her.
She breathes so deep his words and high
on them she huffs, so soft.
He takes the dark side of the moon
and the gutter sludge, he makes
it beautiful to be her. He tells
her. He makes her.
She doesn't struggle and breathes
so deep because she was made from
the night dark and star spangled. He
told her so. Out of her mind with
the beauty of his creation. He made
her from the dark so it seems right
that here the room is dark and
black and she is one. Meshed with
black he made her. He makes her.
Eyes caress, hands caress. Hands
that mold and create. He made
her from the dark. He makes her
from the night.
She takes off her clothes. Off her
shirt off her pants. And shoes and
bra and bracelets. Away with hair
ties and smudge the makeup
from her face. He needs to see
her heart. He needs to look inside
and see her. She needs him to
look inside and see her.
Peeling back her skin and fold
away the layers of night. Look at
No. Put it away. His voice it says. He
makes her high. She inhales him. Huff
again and again. See me. See me.
No he says. You are from the night.
I made you from the cigarette butts
and the burned rubber marks. The
stars against the puddles and the smoke
on brick. Mascara. Cover away. That
is not you in there. He says. Look at me.
She begs. So soft. So so soft. See
my heart. She pleads. He says, I made you.
She folds herself again on with all the
bits to make her his. She is his
creation. He made her from the
night. Good, he says. You are night.
You are the night when heaven is far
and birds sleep. You are dark.
He holds her like the finest of
pale china spiders. He makes her high.
Huff puff so soft. Put away the
light. He says. I make you. She puts
away the light and opens her saved
and whisper climaxes. so so soft.
I make you. He says.
Created: Jan 29, 2010Document Media