I write. That's all.Sometimes, when I happen to catch hold of my evasive reflection – vivid in the looking-glass, a ghostly inhabitant of the greyed parallel within a window, or enlivened in my lover’s eyes- I cannot help but become transfixed and stare shamelessly. My own wide eyes hold not the knowing look of vanity, and my lips are bereft of that harsh curl marked by conceit; they are simply parted, having fallen from one another in the gentle shock that never seems to lessen with each encounter I have with myself.
The creature opposite me, my doppelganger, returns my stunned surprise. Yet I know her not. Her face is painted, like a china doll, and around it falls softly ordered curls of yellow, to her elbows. The maturity found within the contours of her face and the fullness of her feminine form are those things which startle me, I discover. I was expecting someone else.
The rounded face of childhood, spattered with jam which in places ensnares matted pieces of a white blond mane, atop that tiniest vessel of all purity and innocence that could ever exist. This is what I expect to find, each time I look.
#spilledinkprose #fiction #prose
How many hours, deceptively disguised as seconds, have we lost to the cruel twisted hands of Time? The moment he sees us together, content in our unified bliss, he strikes with his scythe -specially sharpened for his sport- and his callous laughter boils my blood; each frantic heartbeat that fritters away more milliseconds its own contained agony. His aim is to shatter our fragile pieces of perfection; exalting in the thrill of his game, before glutting upon a feast of salted tears. He slices away with glee, strings of deadened minutes littering the floor.
Finally, none remain, and he withdraws, satiated; leaving untouched the arduous hours that stretch between our parting and next meeting.
Oh, my love, if I could but perpetually exist with you beyond the reaches of Time.
#Prose #Fiction #SpilledinkProse
Hours have been swallowed up
Whole by the slow blink of
Your eye;
Steady, fixed on mine,
Fixing time.
We cling in the dark,
Not only to each other,
But to the waning seconds
Flitting past;
Evading our panicked clutches.
We breathe in tandem and engulf
Only one
In a kiss,
Passing it infinitely between our lips.
#poetry #spilled ink #fiction
Last night, I fell asleep with you, though here you were not. Your tender whisper carried on the tail of the wind to close my eyes, such as the night air comes to shut up the frail buds of the roses against the hostility of darkness.
This morning, I woke to your kiss, though many barren and wretched miles existed between our lips. It caught me in sleep and brought me forth into the living realm; tugging me gently, as I willingly broke free of pathetic sleep, into our divine shared reality.
Now, having left you once more, I feel a subtle heat rising up through me from the points at which your dextrous fingers slip between mine; interlocking irrevocably, woven together such as the ancient threads of a priceless shroud, spun from a timeless loom. Delicately strong, beautifully essential, eternally inseparable.
Such pale imitations must I sustain myself upon, to stave off starvation, deprivation, of the symphonic lilt of your rich baritone; the crushed velvet caress of your lips; the slow-burning torch of your touch that steadily consumes my body’s surface.
#prose #spilled ink #fiction
dark smell of seaweed, crush of mud and light,
what secret knowledge is clasped between your pillars?
What primal night does Man touch with his senses?
Ay, Love is a journey through waters and stars,
through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain:
Love is a war of lightning,
and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.
Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity,
your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages,
and a genital fire, transformed by delight,
slips through the narrow channels of blood
to precipitate a nocturnal carnation,
to be, and be nothing but light in the dark.”
– Pablo Neruda (via philphys)
Weak at the knees.
The dip of my waist was sculpted to the crook of your elbow. My eyes were pooled of ice-water blue and bottomless black, mirrored to reciprocate that which you bestow upon me: your sublime image. I have lips that exist to be kissed by yours, traced by your tongue, pulled by the delicate graze of your teeth. Breathing in tandem, crushed into one, I slip over you like a glove; tailor made.
The tokens of passion decorating my body all but spell your name. And when you call me beautiful, I laugh, because everything I am is only for you.
#prose #spilled ink #fiction #drabble
When I, in my haste,
Crush your tongue with my teeth,
Do not chastise or reprimand.
When, in my ecstasy,
Laughter bubbles from my lips,
Do not be wounded or doubting.
This juvenile glee
Emanating from me
Is never intended to hurt.
It is but the innocent expression
Of my child-like obsession.
You keep me forever young.
#poetry #spilled ink
Let my tongue
Flicker
Through your spun-sugar hair,
Before my lips pause to
Suckle
Your cherry-cola font,
And then my teeth
Nibble
Your gumdrop toes.
I have a sweet tooth,
And you’re hitting every spot.
#poetry #spilled ink
