a crooked smile, a wicked halo hovers about the eyes, playful thoughts enter the mind, disclosing intent to commit crime. she was ticklish and mischief infiltrated my fingertips; they twitched, trembled to kick-off and commence, but she was forewarned, sheltering responsive regions. and she’d remain wary for a time, a timid animal afraid to approach any residue of male pheremones still suggesting aggression. but finally they’d fade, she’d feel comfortable and calm down. not anymore, now every signal is evaluated for lingering implication. a look that lasts too long blooms blushed cheeks, the pressure in an embrace is measured out, calculated and confuses to calamity. I was just sitting next to her, talking about walking the dog at the lake and I noticed that a tension existed between our bodies, how close our arms were together, if that space were closed they’d touch and I would never have imagined distances could be so dramatic, that if orchestrated to music, the crescendo of organs could make me uncomfortable.
well done, so tangible and sensitive like describing the dance of two sides of a magnet trying to merge.
after twenty years think i have it caught in a tight formula a mathematic fact fixed to the vertex of a triangle cos there's always another angle another angel in the passenger seat flipping through my cds hinting at her taste in music but really only saying shes a different face looking at me so hard the skin crawls. i gotta intercept intention i gotta reach out i gotta grab her by the hair by the belt i gotta get close get what? what is it i want? she puts her lips on my ear says it's here. shes drinking sex on the beach thinking she got me and i got too close got tied into her clothes and tossed into the backseat and what am i doing here? the whole things obtuse odd looking no matter how you look. shes holding me like the world doesnt exist acrylic fingernails digging scratching playfully but it hurts so bad. say her name and she runs her finger up my neck up my chin knows she got me.
That first part is awesome, I could really connect with that. The rest was also good, but "cos there's always another angle another angel in the passenger seat flipping through my cds hinting at her taste in music but really only saying shes a different face looking at me so hard the skin crawls." really stood out for me. I think my fella needs to read this one (then again it'd probably make him agonise over things, and run away, so best not!)
^^thanks for the kind comments everyone! makes me happy that one was well received! a. abstract meaning falling apart and losing locks, it's getting clear, condensing in your room with you lost on the bed, lost in the glow-in-the-dark stars broadcast across the ceiling. you shiver, hold your breath, reflect the moment unimportant as reality toggles gearless and fatal errors hardwire the system. lethargy is loose drive driven into your timetable. it’s a deep desire to keep moments looping continually, but creeping out of this practice comes medusa's only daughter who, into mirrors looking, turns herself to stone, too afraid to step out and interact. b. abstract meaning piled into relationships is lost beneath satin sheets, in the dark, with pillows no comfort in the confusion. these lonely, passionless encounters raise phantoms from the lightning rod resting in your book of fears, so you back behind mental barriers set to contain oscillating terror. a mug of hot chocolate, a breath of fresh air, the viridity of real starlight script events into perspective: hooked by shallow hints promising more than one night, a rogue had you reeled again.
"but creeping out of this practice comes medusa's only daughter who, into mirrors looking, turns herself to stone, too afraid to step out and interact." I like this - it's harsh but fair!
I’ve been a watercolored collection soundtracked to fermented pleasures, alternating focus in binary attention. I’ve tied the cord around bedposts, around wrists, watching tendons extend to fervor’s ceiling and redlined rpm’s. I’ll apply the mystery masked illusion waltz this feather along those legs, blended with slick, icy cold contrails. Tonight, I venerate your sensual myths, the concealed realm of clouds and rain till now’s moment came, you’ve missed.
Hmmm this reminded me of your yesterdays frisky mood. Puuuurty, sensual and elegant. Monsieur Fulmah is up to his erotic antics eh.
Beautiful and sensual. Erotic and playful images gracefully painted. A pleasure to find this, after an intense day at work. Great stuff, here, fulmah.
old, but newly revised east coast girl has angel wings on backwards that push air the wrong direction, that has her window shopping on the rich strip downtown, with gucci gossamer sequin swans hissing, spitting elite perspective concerning neglected social decorum. so she´s einstein operating within her dna, has debated with confucius on philosophy and if those diamonds are disconnected from chromosomes to hang around her neck, she just may eclipse inspection... a sabbatical from books and self improvement spent in downtown clubs on advertising till the boy came along, hat on backwards, with brilliant blue eyes that bought her with cheap words over bourbon. took a week to learn to feel a touch, to contain melt-down and notice how thin these walls were and why he talked so loud at night… aged three years that week, rearranged her angel wings to sooth predatory rage hot showers and soap can´t wash away. if freud were here, she´d ask him about ice cream with freezer burn, a full supply of soda, the trash full of beer cans and the boy behind it and what gives him rights to stories about her; but then she realizes.
stunning imagery flowing with character; touched with interactive change. this was my favorite line... gucci gossamer sequin swans hissing, what an awesome description.
She was upset, confused intoxicated on I don’t remember a beer of some type, I imagine, so she stayed the night I had extra blankets, an empty couch, but she wanted the empty space on the bed next to me and I wasn’t going to disagree, my ankles were already tied too far into wanting. so there she was, head on a pillow, eyes opening, cued to mirror my own peeks. it felt like all of innocence found a home right there, it made me catch my breath and push a lone strand of hair out of her face, behind her ear and what was it that she said? I never can recall (....what am I going to do with you...) but I went cold, said we should take it slow but then we started... and…
