thrills

Today I am filled with light. I feel inconceivably happy.
There's a smile that I can't explain.
That little patch of grass there under the tree looks so inviting. If it were snow I would make angels in it, regardless of the fact that people would think it childish.

Au Revoir to the love of my life

Bones has me disillusioned, his flesh turned coat and stepped over the line of attraction. I look at the arrogant, primped body covered in fashion and wonder where he went. What happened to the boy that slept so peacefully, beautifully showing me the outline of his inner form? Bones? I whisper it gently, hoping, half expecting him to flash his toothy grin with that sparkle in the eye sockets that I knew so well. But I receive no answer from this machine of society that stands before me. So here's to Bones, to the memory of my strangest fetish and most unrequited love. I will always hold you close.

Trouble, with a rating

I hear him chuckle through my pleasure from where he has ‘gone down on’ me, as he likes to gently put it. Something he enjoys, something that culminates in ripples of pleasure forcing their way through me on a level that transcends my body. And there, through the clouding of my mind I hear him chuckling, loving what he can do to me, loving the act of loving. He kisses one last time before crawling up my bed towards me, still smiling. Enjoyed that didn’t you, the statement emanates from his eyes and his smile, both of which are darkened by pleasure of his own. It is a question that requires no verbalisation and receives an answer, also unspoken, that is all too apparent to be mistaken. He feels accomplished, I feel indescribable. I smile and kiss him with a whispered thank you, feeling the heat of him resting eagerly against my thigh as he strokes my neck. He tells me we’ll wait until I’m ready and somehow, like no one before, he knows exactly when that is.

Trouble

Trouble kissed me the other day, started with a gentle nuzzle to the neck and found it's way to my lips. It just about killed me stop him there.
Next time I will allow it to continue on to wherever it wishes to go.

Time

So, time rolls on. I am almost through with my year of study, almost at the stage where moving is a very real possibility. I have not been avoiding you, time just seems to be flying by me, like I someday wish to fly by the world. That too is getting closer, the 'dream', the wings. I am growing older by the day and yet still find myself in situations of 'trouble' as it were. Currently, trouble wears a wedding band and an age that is superior to mine by 14 years, more than half my age. Trouble is brewing and though I am powerful to stop it, I have no wish to. Come what may.

Memory

The first boy that ever loved me is dead. He died last week.
He just died. No warning.
I remember perfectly that day in kindy when he kissed me, I was five.
I feel empty. Young. Surreal.

Them bones, them bones...

Didn't I tell you that the time was coming 'round?! Didn't I say! Right about here.
Dilemas. Oh dig a hole and bury me in it.
I'm not ready.

State of Mind

I was sitting this morning outside drinking coffee with cinnamon, contemplating, thinking, meandering through my mind, not quite sitting comfortably in reality. I slipped gently into daydream, opened my eyes to see Bones sitting next to me, skeleton Bones free from his flesh.
"Mornin'" he said to me flashing his permanent grin my way.
I inclined my head in his direction.
"How's the day?" I asked, then wondered why, such an odd thing to ask.
He turned his skull towards me, looking at me eyeless.
"Seizeable" he said and made a gesture with his skeleton hand.
The sound of his bones clicking softly together still echoes in my ears.

Sweet Narcissus

I caught myself in a narcissistic moment late last night when I was going to bed way too late to be good for me.
In the process of removing my shirt I bent my head to my shoulder and found myself drowning happily in the warm, sweet smell of skin, my own skin. I spent a minute or two appreciating the softness and that almost tangible sweetness, suffering narcissism and vampiristic tendencies towards myself. Until the chill of the night registered and by the light of the nearly full moon streaming through my window I crawled, abashed, beneath my quilt and said goodnight, to myself.

Criatura De La Noche

Have you ever come across a person who, at night, is a grandiose entity. They seem to swell in the moonlight. They open their hands and the people around them crawl adoringly into their palms. When you're around them you find yourself becoming intoxicated by their very presence feeling as though too much could send you to a place in which you end up on the floor at their feet, fawning and incoherent.
And has there ever been a time when you find yourself wondering if they exist in daylight.