Laments & Burlesque - Tumblr Posts
Ignited in silence and raised to your harlot mouth
Pinched in the uneven crescent of your lips
Your sallow face awash in a delicious glow
Bllowing a pretty grey haze
Washing me with a gentle graze
As it skittered away, you uttered three words
They drew me like water from a well:
"Make me cry”
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
A yearning that travels as my desperations move it
Like the tenacious nature of a train with a hundred destinations
Moving and passing every station
She lusts for the libation
The rain of a rapture that floods the streets to a chorus of weeping
But it’s not the composition of the crestfallen, it’s a perennial prayer
An ardent antiphon, a fervent veneration
A song of faith and devotion
Her heart is leviathan-sized
But before you tread, please understand, it’s made of delicate glass
When she gives it to you, only a templar blood-oath will do
So, pour yourself into her sinewy confines until she overflows
Bridge yourself, weld yourself, cover her darkness
Shield her under stacks of the highest thread-count linens
And orbit her aura until you collide
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…
Sacrosanct offerings collide in mirrored image
Luring her with a half-crazed Apollonian hymn
Dual grace in the anguish
A repertoire of Dionysian dances, a feral ballet
Floodlights blare, she’s center stage
The abyss calls out her name like a magick incantation
I can hear it’s discordance, it’s shriek, it’s hum… it’s demoness growl
Beckoning her to the precipice, she vanishes in color-shifting clouds
Enveloped in joyous rhyme
Fuck...
I would kiss the blood-filled chambers of her beating heart if I could
Her lips tremble for the love of “fuck”
Flesh expecting a well-worn leather kiss
Oval lips begging for hell… until it finally starts
Snapping sounds summoning screeching seraphim hymns
Our amorous curse pulverizes their wings
And after one killing, another begins
The first of many little deaths
She was dressed and made up in such a way that you *almost* wanted to avoid touching her and just sit and stare.
Appreciate her, admire her, longingly gaze at her…
Almost.
Shy-girl, watching-girl
Always-on-the-tip-of-my-tongue-girl
Dancing around the main idea
True center of the words
I am along the lines, between the notes
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
I am embroidered in a sunrise
Shining bright in the hours after 3:00am
You stitch my name across your eyelids
Then quilt me a blanket comprised of your breath
At my doorstep, you are covered in fluids from Lovecraftian dimensions
The kind that turn pink when we mix them together
In the moments before the light finally peeks through…
We are brave, we are unrestrained, we are true
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 Help
The day she was hired, neither of us could have predicted it would come to this. On that day, she was wearing sweats and a t-shirt. She was only here to work. My kink and my savagery was well-hidden behind a sweet-tempered veil.
However….
Today, she was in the most fetishized domestic uniform imaginable.
On my orders, she was wearing her hair in the most ornately arranged knots she knew how to style. She was willingly offering her bottom as a tribute to the color pink by a man who was a stranger to her less than a month ago.
Where was this going? What were we doing? Whatever the answer was, I knew only one thing: she wanted me, and only me, to decide.
Faraway galaxies gambol in the dead of the night
No sorrows were awakened
Eon-long and distant constellations aligned with your joyous relief
Whispered with the chill of an early October frost
An unsettling need, it refuses to pass
We wait for that morbid release
A ritual that makes our flesh so bloody, so numb
Once the fuse is lit, we tremble with sickly rapture
Then the pain seems gone
But it won’t be for long
She was a lit candle, warm and soothing
But dangerous when left unattended
I tried to drown out my thoughts of her with the strongest drink
But they remain unaffected and I have learned to swim
No longer dull to the vapor, our eyes well up
A dry red can make you cry
I’m crooning long verse with our lips now violet and sweet
My falsetto draws you like honey
My fingers unmade the buttons of your longing
Unlacing the cement that holds your damaged pieces together
You painted me with your amnesiac sins
I became the shrine for all your “broke and bent”
Draped around old frames
Coaxed like honey that drips from new fingers
Do you ever miss those nights?
The half-light of the bathtub, the bare thighs
The drip, drip, drip
You melted into something shimmering… like blood, like nothingness