03/27/06

A longing desire, aching every day. Your fingers trailing along my flesh, tracing the bones of my ribs, curve of my breasts, edge of my navel. Our sweat mingling, and cooling as your body lifts from mine, your hips raising to thrust again, your weight bearing down on mine. Searing breath singes my throat as you bite the edges of my neck, nails digging into my shoulders, and the constant presence of your cock between my thighs. Primal scents fill the air as our essence mingles; sweat, cum, breath. The slick sounds of sex feed the rhythm of our hips. My legs wrapped around you, clutching, forcing you deeper.

02/25/06

I’m in a park, rushing to get to the center of the park where it is deserted of most people. Running, my skirts billowing behind my feet and legs, hair brushing each shoulder in the stride of my run. The knife I carry banging up against my hip, the cold metal bouncing from the belt. Finally, I am there. Kneeling in the grass, I pull the knife from the folds of my dress, the steel glinting in the fading gray light of the twilight. And they arrive. Slowly at first, but their numbers increase and they crowd around me. Their bluish skin seeming irridescent in the dying sunlight. And they are here to witness and encourage my step into a new realm. Demons? Angels? Some others? I could never tell you. “You must hurry,” they say in unison. I take the knife and plunge it to the hilt into my abdomen, one swift movement, vertically into my stomach, directly below my ribs. And I throw up. “Hurry. Continue,” they cry. Weeping, I pull out the knife and immediately plunge it again into my body, diagonally into the center of my abdomen. And throw up again, this time a bubbling bloody mixture. “Be strong,” they hiss. I repeat the stabbing process twice more, and look down at the red mess on my dress, satisfied that I have finished my task. “You have done well,” one says, taking my hand as I curl into a ball on the bloodied grass, “you have done well.” They all begin to fade away, revealing two men jogging by in the park, who see me, and frantically run over, scoop me up into their arms, and I pass out. Waking up after an indeterminate amount of time, I find myself on the ivory steps outside of my father’s house. Looking down, my wounds are closed, healed, and nothing but the slightly puffy scar tissue in the shape of a giant “M” remain. I walk up the steps and the dream ends as the door opens for my entrance.

01/21/06

The dogs were let loose, leashes left at the feet of the handlers, chains clinking against the cold asphalt. The growling, snarling masses of ragged fur sped along the roadway, their breath leaving clouds of mist behind them. And the shrieking screams of the woman fleeing the premises filled the evening. She was no match for them. Just as she reached the grass of the surrounding field, the first dog reached her side, it’s teeth sinking into the vulnerable flesh of her calf, immediately bringing her to her knees. In a flash, the other two were upon her; one on her flailing arm, and another found the flesh of her throat. Her screams were nothing more than gurgling whimpers, drowned out by the snarls of beasts. Flesh was torn, arteries ripped open, blood spilled onto the winter grass. And quickly, she was nothing more than a limp feast; her open body steaming in the cold night air. And a handler came to them, flashlight beaming into their feral eyes, glinting against the fresh blood upon their muzzles. And he let them dine. Dine upon the steaming corpse of her. And they filled their gullets on her flesh.

01/21/06

The sweet taste of your sweat lingers on my tongue, the scent of your skin taunts me. Your body heat faded long ago, and yet I feel like you were just here, inside of me. My body is still tense from our passionate coupling. And yet the bed is cold. The pillow, unburdened. Your phantom presence haunts me, flashbacks tease me. And I yearn for your presence already. Come back to me. Often.

01/14/06

Steam curls her hair as hot water caresses down her breasts and continues toward the cleft between her legs. Suddenly, her skin erupts in gooseflesh as his fingertips brush aside a stray tendril of hair, and he kisses the nape of her exposed neck.

01/12/06

He rolled and pinched her nipples, and she gasped in sexual delight; that slight sound caused his cock to harden even more.

12/05/05

A man is guiding a woman through a workshop. It’s dark, but not so dark you can’t see there’s tools on the walls, tables, benches, and sawdust on the floor. Nothing out of the ordinary. Walking through some plastic sheeting, the lighting changes. It remains very dim, but is now reddish, like in a darkroom. You can see the woman getting a bit uncomfortable as (typical horror movie cheese) rusty hand saws and pliers are left out on the tables. An unknown promise to the observer (you and I) keeps her following this man. The man parts another plastic curtain for her to pass through first, to which she does. And now we see things through her eyes. I don’t even know how to explain it . . . there was a sort of animatronic, counter-weight balance puppetry machine . . . that makes no sense. You know those stress relievers that are five balls suspended, you pull one, and the reaction is ongoing? Or the little bird you tip into a glass, but the counter-weight pulls it out, and the momentum pushes it back in? Every action has a reaction. A lead marionette was fed by the motions of the other four. The other four were fed by the lead. All were bloated and bloodied body parts. Even a gutted baby’s head, doing nothing but spinning. I know I have done no justice in explaining the odd dancing dead, but maybe I can come back later. As for the woman in the workshop, I have no idea of her fate.