Two more pieces…man, I’m feeling prolific


Two more pieces…man, I’m feeling prolific

by Matthew Brewes on Wednesday, January 2, 2008 at 10:58pm
Some more writing to share…some of you might be wondering why I keep doing this even though it would appear from complete lack of comment that absolutely nobody reads these…well, I’ll tell you why…it’s because I fucking want to, wha-ha-ha-ha…anyway, this first piece is a little different but I like the overall feel…On days like this, with the sky a thin blue frost eggshell
Arching over broad fields of white and brown
I feel a tug at my limbs
A need to run four-legged and tongue lolling
Loping, hungry and grey
Smoking breath and on the hunt.

Something sleeps inside me,
Red of tooth and claw on occasion stirring, restless
Longing for fear stink and sweat of chase
And the final copper bright tang
Of blood, all savoury and salt.

They do not see me in their midst
All these fat, bleating things
Trussed and helpless, fettered and forgetting
The only law is bright red and dripping
Not the pale scribblings they cling to.

I fight the urge down
Even when I long to go for the throat,
To kill sudden and sweet
To head the screaming call buried deep but not forgotten
Within every single cell.

Instead, on days like this
I send myself away and running
Along with my pack mates
Lean silhouettes racing low along the horizon line
Free in spirit if not in flesh.

Occasionally, when I turn and look over my shoulder
I see paw prints behind me.

…so that’s the first one…the second is much different and I’m not nearly as satisfied with it…in fact, a few seconds after I wrote it, I put in the margin “this should have been so very much more than it is”…I’ll let the reader be the judge though and see what comes out…

To follow a single drop of sweat with a fingertip
As it meanders down the line of her backbone
Over flesh as pale as new cream
Smooth, sweet canvas
Upon which such subtle pleasures may be painted
A study in sighs and moans.

Breath against the hollow of your neck,
An anticipation of lips or tongue or teeth
A brief, quivering moment of agony
Between the seconds from exhalation to fruition
Leaving every fibre in you
Taught as the string behind the arrow.

Her hair across the skin of your chest
Burns like wires of perfumed silk
The lash that carves you into her creature
Hungry and howling
Every inch a mouth tasting salt and blood and honey,
The whole world resolving into her, was only ever her to begin with.

The push of her, the sweet weight of her
Bearing down upon you could crush the last breath from you,
Her mouth cutting you away
Piece by crimson piece
Hands, arms hair tangled and knotted
Where you and she begin and end lost and forgotten.

Then, like a thread snapping
A moment balanced so pure along a knife edge
Pleasure so absolute you can only sob in pain
Wave after wave crashing, breaking, ebbing away
Leaving you laying upon the shores of her.

…so that’s it for now…I hope that somebody reads this someday…anyway, I enjoyed writing them and it has felt so very good to have the words under my pen again…U never know how long it will last anymore, so I treasure each and every scrap I can get…until next time, cheers all…

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