miercuri, 13 ianuarie 2010

My new ex-lover

She bends and stretches and curls around me like vine. She whispers in my ear things that make me twitch and twist with pleasure. Her hands are warm and soft and roam free over my clothes. I feel like imploding and I never want her to stop torturing me. She’s running me over like a train, crushing me like a titan, and all the words I can summon are pleads for more… Yet I’m so lost I can’t tell if they escape my lips.

Her eyes are hypnotizing, unreal, glowing feline green in the lack of light. They push me into a trance and her breath is pure absynth – I’m drugged, falling through the soft sofa, melting inside the leather. I ignore the screams, the laughter, the eyes following our private little orgy, and it feels so good.

The kisses fade and return, her lips curving over mine, her tongue making them wet whenever her moans dry them out. She’s leeching on me, drawing my life out, mesmerizing me. Then she just pushes me away and dances with a grace I’ve never seen before. I tell her it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and she just laughs, untrusting… I mean it, but who cares?

Her hips sway sideways slowly while she tilts her head back, thrusts forward then pulls back violently – her hair flows back like an upside down waterfall. She moves like she’s on top of me. We’re making love in our minds, in dead space. It makes me feel sexy, wanted, adored, like I haven’t felt in a long time. I want her back in my arms, but she continues teasing…

It’s feral, lustful, sinfun, but neither of us cares. We’re rude and indecent, we’re allowing and encouraging eachother, we’re putting all our frustration, our past pain, our wasted passion into it because we deserve it. We needed eachother to make the stars shine once again, to stop the colors from fading away, to breathe free once more… We’re not perfect, but the next best thing. She says there is no perfection and she’s right. She says she can grab and touch and see and smell imperfections, and I want her to be mine with all of her flaws, and I to fully belong…

She laughs and bats her eyelashes. She makes me laugh sincerely, but she breaks my heart. She aims a gun at my soul and fires over and over again, yet her eyes remain innocent, her face stays the same, like it’s not even her. I can’t even argue, I can’t fight back… I only try to understand, while I’m bleeding out, dying, maybe forever this time.

She’s leaving me and won’t even take a last look in my eyes. She says it’d hurt too much and that I do understand… I’m already suffering – why would I drag her through my hell? Still, a part of me roars for her touch, the part I can’t admit freely that loves her. It can’t be anything else, because this isn’t pure sex I long for. It’s a need for androginy and she’s my Eve. She’s my terrifying salvation, one that no matter how much and how intense I beg, I will never receive… I can’t believe she’s leaving…

She smiles at someone or something from a photograph – the only thing confirming me I haven’t imagined the whole thing, ripping into my soul and my dreams. And I remember – I dreamt her a long time ago. My partner into eternity, but she slips away. I wish her back with my whole being and, now more than ever, I hunt immortality.