anonymous
a moment ago i thought about smothering my boyfriend. one virginal, swirling, thick and foggy moment where murdering him lead me down the hall to the door glimmering and swimming and swaying and glowing. relief.
he lies by me as i cough up my dry words, lying deep in an ocean of the rum which muffles the sound of my fingers pitter-pattering like small children’s soles. he lies still and geometrical, one hand placed on purpose over a selection of face. his beard erupts like sprouting sprigs all over, like a stealthy vine strategically taking his face by force. the tender, ripened eyelashes lay unassuming, like a snowflake on the sleeve. his eyebrows command, great thick snakes of hair almost sensually dominating the lightly sunshine of his body bag of skin. a soft glimse of eternity rests in the sag of his upper lip’s middle, sensual even, like the shape of a nipple as it emancipates itself from the roundness of a breast. his chest and arm and shoulder and neck are worthy of a renaissance sculpture. his breathing is my metronome, in a slight way out of time but constant,
1, 2.
1, 2
1,2
inhale,
exhale,
of course one would not exist without the other.
you whisper and twitch,
i hope you dream.
