Lamentsburlesquewriter - Laments & Burlesque

Flowing through the spine, a lingering shiver

Chilled floating bliss, dissolving into shutters

Reverberating endlessly

Seething within, tension breaks at the first word

You’re brooding on a tide

Dark and driven waters carving out channels

Quiet, waiting, brittle

Releasing a single reclined breath

I creep in through the white noise of the swirling ennui that surrounds you

Right below the earlobe in my driest cabernet cadence

Our duet has such modality, but it’s not a nocturne… it’s a dirge

And the death I deal is cruel

You’ll feel it coming in the blood-flooded chambers of your true strumpet heart

And I can kill you like this wherever I wish...

A darkened corner of the city’s most notorious dive

White-knuckling the wheel on some midnight mile down I-88

In the shower (like Janet Leigh)

Each death is different, but death all the same

And, unlike a cat, you’ll never run out

How fortunate for me

Enswathe in silken lace, making her nest in secluded style

Lavender petals tread a path from the veranda to her vanity

Rosehip seeds on her bed, my scented letters strewn…

Half-finished sonnets she knows without reading:

“You kissed a valentine on my cage of bones”

Softly and slowly, fingers move in clockwise rotation

Wishing for her lover’s trace

The Note

This woman had gone from being my landlady to also my lover very quickly. It had just been a week, but the relationship had mushroomed and we had descended (or ascended, if you like) firmly into kink-land.

After only two days, she had declared herself my submissive as if she were taking her Augustinian vows.

With careful attention to the details, I had written it down in calligraphy ink on rhodia dot paper, tri-folded perfectly inside a baronial envelope. Leaving the little package on her desk in the leasing office, I included a bottle of cabernet. Before returning to my apartment, I removed the cork and placed a single glass next to it.

My instructions were clear:

Mary Janes

Dress above the knee

Shave everything

No panties

Strapless bra

Princess plug

Remove all jewelry

Smokey eye make-up

I sat down on the sofa and waited. Switching on my stereo, I pulled up Fiona Apple’s ‘When the Pawn’ record and set all ten tracks to repeat.

During the bridge of ‘Love Ridden’, I heard her approaching…

Deprivation

I have stolen your sight. Your green eyes, those viridescent jewels that seem to live in the back of my mind at all times, are sadly—just for one night—concealed from my gaze.

You know you’re being observed by her; it has driven you to a point of arousal I’ve not seen from you since the first time I kissed your neck. I can literally smell your vivication. And so can you.

The room is warm and freshly cleaned. Her perfume hangs in the air. Sensuously rich. “Is that pomegranate?” you inquire to yourself. Holding on to anything to compensate for your lack of vision, you anticipate the lyrics of Jeff Buckley’s ‘Through the Yard of Blonde Girls’ playing faintly in the background.

Your breathing is staggered as if you might hyperventilate. That crimson flush… I watch it spread from your cheeks to your neck and chest.

”Who is she? What does she look like?” you wonder. The desire to know is consuming you. But those questions aren’t going to be answered. Not yet. And maybe never. I haven’t decided if that blindfold is coming off tonight.

As I look on, our guest uncrosses her legs. She stands. Partially disrobing, she begins to inch slowly toward you. The sound of her chair settling, followed by the footfalls of her heels on the hardwood floor, signal what’s coming.

I hear you audibly gasp…

You could cum right now if I told you to.