I have painted the lines
of your body across the sky.
Mixed stains on mental palettes
to match the unnamed tone
of the skin behind your knee.
Imagined the crease
at the corner of your mouth
contorted by pleasure,
then laughter,
then pain.
I’ve composed the whirwind
of your orgasms,
ethereal breath,
the sound of your wet cunt
echoes around my tiled mind.
Cries, like a flock of birds
taking flight into haunted air.
Living so vibrantly in his mind,
you’ve become real in mine.
And I’m unsure whether to
thank you or curse you.
Had he never known you,
he would not be the man
I can’t have now.
What a visceral piece, RG. This took the wind from me. Literally. For a moment everything stopped and I felt every slicing, tearing pull.
Your words RG, resonate against the echoes in my head… the memories I clench tight-fisted, for fear they leak out and stain the rug upon which I stand.
I don’t think there’s a woman alive who hasn’t felt that way at least once, do you? Not an adult, anyway.
I agree, it is sadly all too common an experience…and yet it twists my insides to read it, the pain captured and crystallised in your words
No, there most likely isn’t an adult woman alive who hasn’t felt this, but, it’s a path to nothing but madness I think; I know, that’s the point. I could only read it once, it’s too much for me today (that means it’s really good).
Hehe…could be that it’s too much for me today, which is why I had to dump it on you. 🙁 Sorry.
*looks at you sternly over the rim of my glasses, hands on hips* don’t you ever apologise for writing, missy 😉
As you have many times in the past, RG, you illuminate with your words a new perspective on my being. I want to comment that from my perspective as a man, this poem, particularly the last three lines, took my breath away. Thank you.
Upon reading this I had goosebumps at the end & found my heart rattling hollowly in my chest (or at his feet take your pick).
As always I applaud your talent & look forward to more
I’m often left after reading your stories wanting for something I can’t describe. I’m left with a longing for something that only exists in my mind so far.