Status: Completed.
Morning Glory.
1/1
ENTHRAL.
She’s mesmerizing as she dances.
PLIANT.
Her supple body twisting and meandering through the shadows cast by dotted streetlights.
WIND.
An icy morning breeze guiding her through a labyrinth of cobbled laneways.
CHANCE.
It’s as though by fate that she‘s taken the same route as me.
MEET.
She forages through her bag, bringing a cigarette to her lips, the lighter flame bobbing uneasily in the breeze.
HARM.
I watch as the flame licks her finger making her jolt with shock.
LUNGS.
Her lungs rebel as she takes the first drag causing her to cough and splutter, but it doesn't stop her from going back for more.
JUGULAR.
Cheeks sink into her skull as she inhales, drawing out the intoxicating smoke down her air pipe into her scarred lungs, and I can think of nothing better at that moment than putting my lips to her throat.
DUST.
I can tell she can see things I don’t; like when the dust dances in the soft light, rejoicing in the beauty of a new day.
WISE.
It’s that wisdom that sets her drunkenly artistic mind apart from mine; groggy and sleep deprived.
STRING.
I doubt she’d be able to string a coherent sentence together, though.
EXACT.
She starts to walk straighter and slower, making her steps more precise.
FLESH.
Goose pimples dot the skin on her long, white legs.
FLUSH.
Her cheeks are almost glowing red from the night’s activities.
GLOW.
She’s a goddess as the world around her sleeps, her deep red hair adding a vibrancy to the darkness.
SCRAPE.
Her heel scuffs the stones underfoot and she trips, ever so ungracefully.
TINGLE.
There’s a twinge inside me as she does and I want to give her assistance, but I hold myself back.
MEANING.
She’d probably think me foolish and silly, not understanding the underlying feeling of the gesture at all.
DISCOURSE.
I’m not sure even I understand myself, certainly not enough to ever speak another word to her.
EMBER.
She is a glowing ember and I am the smoke.
BURST.
The brightest star in my sky; she’s my supernova in garbage littered streets.
FIGHT.
She wraps her arms around her willowy body trying to keep the cold out, which to me seems pointless considering the slip of a dress she’s wearing.
WARMTH.
Regardless, she tries to find heat from her twiggy arms.
LOOSE.
To me, they‘re too loose, like baggy trousers, and I want to hold her in mine instead.
TANGLE.
It’s almost as though I need her, to wrap her arms around me, tangling those scrawny limbs around my lonely bones, reassuring me that the world’s not as cruel as I thought.
GLITTER.
But her glittery eyes sparkle as the sun glows on the horizon, and I can tell her view of the world isn’t as lowly as my twisted perception.
CURVE.
One corner of her lips rises as she smiles at me.
CHAPPED.
I lick my own, feeling the torn, dry skin under my tongue, not realising how they had longed for moisture.
DELIRIUM.
She’s still in her blissful state of euphoria, greeting the sunlight with a wobbly twirl.
LIGHT.
The streetlights slowly go out, one by one, as the sun yawns.
STING.
It seems to make my skin burn; though only dim, it pricks like a needle through the beading layer of morning dew on my arms.
GOLD.
She wobbles around to face me, her eyes flashing gold as the sun bursts inside them.
CRUMBLE.
Her stare makes me want to implode; I feel as small as an ant as she struts to meet me.
IMPRINT.
Her hands grip my arms, talon like nails digging into my wet skin.
VAIN.
My arms shake, trying to loosen her vice-like grip on them in vain.
SWALLOW.
I feel my Adam’s apple bob in my throat as I take a deep swallow, both in apprehension and fear.
DEFIANCE.
She stares me down like a queen, taking in every little imperfection and I lift my chin in fake defiance.
CRACK.
She smirks; her lips parting ever so slightly to reveal a shock of white enamel inside.
RINGING.
My head’s buzzing as she directs my hands to her hips, showing them where and how to hold her.
CRAVE.
I can feel my heart, almost bursting with need, and I know I’ve never wanted anything more than I want her right now.
ALARM.
Desire and self-consciousness entwine themselves in my head as we stand there, in the street.
HEAT.
My face grows warm as she hold my hands, still guiding them up and down her sides and over her rump.
CHERRY.
Cherry lips snake north to tempt my own.
FLURRY.
A flood of emotions rage inside my head, each battling with the next for supremacy.
ACHE.
Dull aches pounding my gut, but getting overridden with pure passion and pleasure.
SWELL.
She pushes her body against mine and I can feel her breasts heaving as she tries to breathe.
BONES.
Her bones poke and prod their way through the tissue paper fabric of her body, itching to meet mine.
PULSE.
It seems we’ve created a pulse of our own, strong and heady; drunk with a simple need for human desire.
FLICKER.
The sun flicks its tongue over us; warming our brittle bones.
DEVIL.
It all seems well and good, but she's got me dominated, the saucy minx.
She’s mesmerizing as she dances.
PLIANT.
Her supple body twisting and meandering through the shadows cast by dotted streetlights.
WIND.
An icy morning breeze guiding her through a labyrinth of cobbled laneways.
CHANCE.
It’s as though by fate that she‘s taken the same route as me.
MEET.
She forages through her bag, bringing a cigarette to her lips, the lighter flame bobbing uneasily in the breeze.
HARM.
I watch as the flame licks her finger making her jolt with shock.
LUNGS.
Her lungs rebel as she takes the first drag causing her to cough and splutter, but it doesn't stop her from going back for more.
JUGULAR.
Cheeks sink into her skull as she inhales, drawing out the intoxicating smoke down her air pipe into her scarred lungs, and I can think of nothing better at that moment than putting my lips to her throat.
DUST.
I can tell she can see things I don’t; like when the dust dances in the soft light, rejoicing in the beauty of a new day.
WISE.
It’s that wisdom that sets her drunkenly artistic mind apart from mine; groggy and sleep deprived.
STRING.
I doubt she’d be able to string a coherent sentence together, though.
EXACT.
She starts to walk straighter and slower, making her steps more precise.
FLESH.
Goose pimples dot the skin on her long, white legs.
FLUSH.
Her cheeks are almost glowing red from the night’s activities.
GLOW.
She’s a goddess as the world around her sleeps, her deep red hair adding a vibrancy to the darkness.
SCRAPE.
Her heel scuffs the stones underfoot and she trips, ever so ungracefully.
TINGLE.
There’s a twinge inside me as she does and I want to give her assistance, but I hold myself back.
MEANING.
She’d probably think me foolish and silly, not understanding the underlying feeling of the gesture at all.
DISCOURSE.
I’m not sure even I understand myself, certainly not enough to ever speak another word to her.
EMBER.
She is a glowing ember and I am the smoke.
BURST.
The brightest star in my sky; she’s my supernova in garbage littered streets.
FIGHT.
She wraps her arms around her willowy body trying to keep the cold out, which to me seems pointless considering the slip of a dress she’s wearing.
WARMTH.
Regardless, she tries to find heat from her twiggy arms.
LOOSE.
To me, they‘re too loose, like baggy trousers, and I want to hold her in mine instead.
TANGLE.
It’s almost as though I need her, to wrap her arms around me, tangling those scrawny limbs around my lonely bones, reassuring me that the world’s not as cruel as I thought.
GLITTER.
But her glittery eyes sparkle as the sun glows on the horizon, and I can tell her view of the world isn’t as lowly as my twisted perception.
CURVE.
One corner of her lips rises as she smiles at me.
CHAPPED.
I lick my own, feeling the torn, dry skin under my tongue, not realising how they had longed for moisture.
DELIRIUM.
She’s still in her blissful state of euphoria, greeting the sunlight with a wobbly twirl.
LIGHT.
The streetlights slowly go out, one by one, as the sun yawns.
STING.
It seems to make my skin burn; though only dim, it pricks like a needle through the beading layer of morning dew on my arms.
GOLD.
She wobbles around to face me, her eyes flashing gold as the sun bursts inside them.
CRUMBLE.
Her stare makes me want to implode; I feel as small as an ant as she struts to meet me.
IMPRINT.
Her hands grip my arms, talon like nails digging into my wet skin.
VAIN.
My arms shake, trying to loosen her vice-like grip on them in vain.
SWALLOW.
I feel my Adam’s apple bob in my throat as I take a deep swallow, both in apprehension and fear.
DEFIANCE.
She stares me down like a queen, taking in every little imperfection and I lift my chin in fake defiance.
CRACK.
She smirks; her lips parting ever so slightly to reveal a shock of white enamel inside.
RINGING.
My head’s buzzing as she directs my hands to her hips, showing them where and how to hold her.
CRAVE.
I can feel my heart, almost bursting with need, and I know I’ve never wanted anything more than I want her right now.
ALARM.
Desire and self-consciousness entwine themselves in my head as we stand there, in the street.
HEAT.
My face grows warm as she hold my hands, still guiding them up and down her sides and over her rump.
CHERRY.
Cherry lips snake north to tempt my own.
FLURRY.
A flood of emotions rage inside my head, each battling with the next for supremacy.
ACHE.
Dull aches pounding my gut, but getting overridden with pure passion and pleasure.
SWELL.
She pushes her body against mine and I can feel her breasts heaving as she tries to breathe.
BONES.
Her bones poke and prod their way through the tissue paper fabric of her body, itching to meet mine.
PULSE.
It seems we’ve created a pulse of our own, strong and heady; drunk with a simple need for human desire.
FLICKER.
The sun flicks its tongue over us; warming our brittle bones.
DEVIL.
It all seems well and good, but she's got me dominated, the saucy minx.
♠ ♠ ♠
Dedicated to chromatography and pulmonary archery for their wonderful beta efforts.Many thanks.