note #172

Strong, tanned fingers marched along pale cream curves to end their journey in a dark ebony forest. There they tangled and caught, pulling back the waves of silken hair to expose a soft expanse of porcelain neck. Lips brushed along that expanse and moved in a slow beat down to where neck met shoulder. There they leaped from the ledge of collarbone to tease pert nipples with tooth and tongue. The fingers trailed across salt white plains, edging ever closer to the lush jungle and its hidden spring of pleasure.

The world shivered and moaned as the marauder sailed lower, tensing in his wake. He smiled then, as he explored with finger and tongue among the borders of the spring. Pale fingers tangled in silken sheets as the marauder teased and tested the sweet, salty waters. Grey eyes slid across angled muscle as he rose above her, landing finally upon that most succulent of testaments to his desire standing tall in a monument to her bounty.

He entered her so very slowly, both savoring the first bright sparks of pleasure. She arched her back to meet him fully and he grasped her. The marauder led his pale mistress into a steady rhythm, a dance of give and take, lust and desire. They met and parted, moving together through the growing sea of pleasure. The beat grew faster as the waves from the sea overtook them, carrying them along in a wild staccato. Gasping and moaning they raced, two wild beasts coursing together and breaking free from the land to sail amid a blossoming sky as they reached the heights of their passion. Roaring in ecstasy they came crashing together, buffeted by a million explosions. Clinging to each other they rode the dark sea, adrift but for the melding of their beings.

Falling back to earth they separated, awash with joy, shimmering and glistening from their exertion. The world glowed moon bright, smiling and brushing rosy lips upon her lover's. The marauder became a dusky shadow, wrapping strong arms about her, pulling her close and claiming her as his own.

note #171

dead bones buried dreaming sleep
and i wander slowly on light feet
ere the day that they should ever wake
and twisting, turning, tempting speak
of death and dreams and the fate they reaped
here to find the solace that they eke
before the ancient dead should stir to make
protest at the iron gates
here were squandered early years
in tests of strength and bloody tears
where the bishop fathered his only son
who fell beneath the wild hunt's run
his ghost, now creeping, comes my way
a pact to make, i must not stray
he bobs and weaves, moans and howls
all coming from his slackened jowls
the bones reach up, pull me astray
the quiet dead warn away.

note #170

carved into your skin,
you'll surely fit in,
with all of your sins.

note #169

once i was a tree, and you sat in the shade under me.
once i was a bird, and it was my song you heard.
once i was a fire, and you sought to stoke me higher.
once i was a man, without love in my plans.
but once you captured me, my heart was set light and free.

note #168

i stood above the train and waited, watching it snake never-ending and seemingly without motion. the slate sky felt heavy as the city rose behind me. alone i waited.

this is a truth.

note #167

the detail in something so small is amazing. the craftsmanship and symmetry expressed in lines crisp to this day bring life to another time far removed from this modern world.

note #166

your hero is only as good as their villain.