advienne que pourra je t’aimerai pour toujours
quand les mondes sont morts nous serons encore
quelque part à temps notre amour attendra
et quand le temps est à nous serons ensemble.
J’entretiens pas ce monde des imbéciles et des rois
Je n’interroge pas comment ou quand ou pourquoi
mais vivent chaque jour pour tu et pour notre amour
et attente le ciel où nous aimerons encore
-Kingpoetry
She’ve become a wet neuron
Calling on the tails of subspace
Swimming in the pleasure of purple
She opens up the sea
Have you felt the latin coral fire
There in the underground gold
Where blue fish spawn serotonin
Tides with thighs of silk
Lost in stars of silver high heels
Great red rivers of moonlight
Islands flow like G Spot paintings
Bamboo canes sing like redshift paradise
His leather gloves like a velvet shower
That clings to his fingers like a skin
Reaches to grip her slender throat
and that was the end of the futile grin
The fingers tighten and the life drifts to the coast.
The eyes dilates begging in a tone of a half dead shoat.
Struggling will not make it any calmer nor will sanity tether.
She was rebelled against her desires of the silken leather.
He smiled at each of her prudent attempts,
to escape the darkness that lived and transcends.
Every trick in the book was no less to try.
In the end the lips gave up the struggle in a parched cry
Coating her sanity on his flamboyant second skin.
Black as the night and squeaking above the twin.
The twin pinned with the wooden clampment,
Tweezing on the teats and the screams muffled nevertheless.
Stuck in the throat as the final blow was made.
Marking it in his shadow, her face. held his name.
Her eyes , held his face, her dreams held his eyes
Focussed unmoving and they kiss..
That was the last of any strife, and the lips sealed in a bliss
Since the moment they had first made eye contact, she had wanted him, had needed him in some primal way. Without knowing the slightest detail about one another, their eyes traveled over each other, both feeling the same need, to have each other. He left his group of friends to approach her. She stared down, stirring her drink, pretending to be nonchalant when every part of her was aching to have him. She knew he was walking up behind her, every part of her tingled when she felt his breath on her neck as he leaned towards her and softly asked if he could join her. With her most alluring smile, she replied, “Of course.” They exchanged smiles and small talk and, at the end of the night, phone numbers. She left the bar in disappointment, still needing him for some reason she could not discern. The next few days, he remained in the back of her head, taunting her with a desire that was unfilled. One night, as she was heading out to meet some friends for a game of pool, and unfamiliar number came up on her phone, and she answered it with curiosity in her voice. The minute she heard his silky voice she felt that same stirring inside her. They talked for a few moments before agreeing to meet up later that night when she was done with her friends. He refused to let her cancel with her friends, simply saying he would wait for her at his apartment, that he didn’t mind, and he gave her the address.
She sat at the table in the bar, awaiting her turn at the table, and her mind would not stay off this man, this man that evoked that oddly primal need in her. She finished the game quickly, then explained what was going on, and her friends cheered her on as she hurried out the door.
Driving to the address he had given her, she could not contain the heat that kept rising within her. What did he do that made her feel like this? She had no idea, only knew she loved the deliciously sensual feelings that kept rolling over her. She pulled up to his apartment, double checked her image in the car window, straightening her clothes and hair. Her legs felt shaky as she walked to the door. As she raised her hand to knock, the door opened and he stepped out, closing the door behind him. She looked at him as he took her hand and shivers went through her once again. He told her to close her eyes. Trusting this man she barely knew, she obliged. He led her into the apartment and down a hallway, to a room where she heard ode to joy playing softly. He guided her to a soft surface and asked her to sit down. She did and felt him sit down next to her. He gently cupped her face and began to kiss her. The heat she had been trying to restrain became a full fire beginning low and traveling the whole course of her body.
As their kisses became more intense, her hands began wandering as she sat still with her eyes closed. They explored his shoulders, down his arms, over his chest, his ribs, she needed to touch every part of him. He gently took her hands away and lightly pushed her onto her back so she was laying down. She felt him hover over her, his hands playing lightly with the buttons on her shirt and she arched in response to his touch. As the buttons were undone she tried to touch him, but he gently resisted and lowered his head to her chest. She felt his mouth moving so lightly over her breasts that were aching to feel his touch, straining against her bra. He laughed softly at her whimpers and unhooked her bra, then gave her what she had been wanting. His warm mouth enveloped her bare skin moving back and forth, leaving tracks of fire as he explored, never letting his mouth rise from her skin.
She gasped as she felt him slide his mouth down to the edge of her low rise pants, kissing her hip bones, he unbuttoned her pants and slid them down with her panties. Her hips rose to accommodate him. He began kissing the inside of her leg, getting teasingly close to where she most wanted him to kiss her, where she wanted to feel him. He paused for a moment, and she heard the sound of his clothes sliding down on the floor. She heard him begin to breathe faster as he allowed her to reach down, run her hands through his hair, and pull him up to her. At the moment their skin touched one another’s both uttered sighs of desire and they clenched each other, both feeling that same need, that primal need. She felt him so close to that part of her where she ached for him and she rose up against him. He groaned in desperate need, and ran his fingers gently down there. She strained against him, begging softly and finally opened her eyes.
Their eyes meet, as they had the first time, and the need overwhelmed both of them. He slid into her and they both tumbled into a whirlwind of desire, of need, that they could not get enough of. They grabbed and clung to each other, neither being able to ever get as close as they wanted to. They drove into each other yet could not completely satisfy the need they had that would not let them go.
They went to places neither had gone before, the feelings, sensations, everything was new to them. They hungered for each other even though they were utterly entwined. Gradually their rhythm increased to a tempo that neither could control until the ultimate release consumed both of them and they collapsed.
They lay there, not able to speak, barely able to breathe. He turned his head to the side and looked at her. Feeling his gaze, she turned to meet it. With a soft smile, he raised his hand to trace the line of her face, and with that touch, and their eyes connected…..
The need that would never be satiated began again……..
To the morning the wrestling and nestling continued in the bedroom and she woke up in a mess yet so utterly beautiful. Her face radiated like the first spring flower, and he seats up and lights a cigarette watching her sleep. After the first puff he forgets to shed the ash, and do so finally on her resting hand.. smiling as she opens her eyes. He reaches his other hand to pull what seemed like a dagger from his side drawer. Without leaving her sight she inquires about the time, He responded with half past ten and he watched her groan as she reaches for the Bourbon in the glass next to her bed. The grip tightening on the dagger as he watched her and she takes a sip and looks back at him. He finally plunges the dagger in her throat before she could savor the taste of her drink. the blood pooled down her pillow as she tried hard to find her composure beating her fist on his chest as the dagger twists and ends her spark. Leaving the dagger in her throat he reaches for the drink she was having and takes a sip.. watching his art painted on the white silk sheets. Smiling he poured the rest of the liquid over her face and stood up, walking away from his artistic shade.
His phone rang and he answers. A call from his friends to go out tonight.. Yet another night yet another desire.. yet another life and the drink to follow…
Journey with Zynklayr 