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It begins in a dream a simple thing, a figure in the dark, one that leaves no mark, just a memory of what had been in a life never lived. It’s a light where there is only black, a mingling of flesh with claws  along the back. It tears and I cry but I smile because I lie, and she simply moans as we both wish we could someday, like this, die. Her taste is that of a drug, her lips are like needles I roll along my tongue, I cannot stop myself for I am not myself for the two have become one. We mold together as was meant to be we pull back time from its seams and show the truth of ourselves a swirling of smoke upon itself for this is the end and I sigh for at the end there are no lines and fractions break us down into the sublime, but, there are times, when my senses become entwined, and I feel a feeling I thought that died. Time, is a rhyme for what I now know seems strange and I cannot tell the future from the past but I can still feel her claws along my back. To start again is the thing and try to hold that feeling until there is nothing left but ash and dust as King and by that day my bones will be old rust and I’ll remember everything. This is thy Kingdom as this is mine and let us settle this one more time as the sand runs dry and let the Angels sing, and in the End it will be worth everything.

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2 Comments

  1. We all have it. This pull to someone that cannot be explained. It defies space and time. It draws on something deeper and we always know its there.

  2. Evocative, darkly romantic, and HOT!!!


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