Plague Lover

When you taste my plague, how does it make you feel?

Those thoughts that blossom in your mind when I reveal myself to you, how much is pleasure and how much is pain? With blackened eyes and hardened bones, I’m something you can never escape from. You know my name, but can never bring yourself to say it. You try to deny me, to banish all traces of what I am, but I’m always here. Creeping in the shadows, waiting for the moon to come show me the way. When you’re in bed and on the threshold of dreams, I slip in through the window and caress the very heart of you. Whispering into your ear, I quicken your pulse and make you shiver. Uncurling beneath the sheets, your body yearns for my touch. The beads of sweat that cling to your forehead, the sighs that rise from your open mouth. Kissing eyelids and fingers circling flesh, my name dances on the tip of your silent tongue. Invisible in the darkness, I wrap myself around you. Merging with your tender flesh, I breathe in the scent that lingers on your throat. Growing hungry, I feed upon your innocence.

And you’re so innocent when you sleep.

Inside of me, there’s a plague. It’s dangerous and obscene, penetrating all. Some call it evil, but you always knew better. You’ve tasted it so many times, given yourself to its nature with complete abandon. There was a time when it filled you up like a drug, left you lighter than sunshine. Only now it scares you. Makes you afraid of just what you are. And what are you exactly? What do you look for when I come calling?

There are no words. We communicate through touch alone. Holding your head in my hand, I brush the hair from your eyes and place a kiss upon your lips. Kissing me back, I taste what you are before pushing myself inside. When we become one, there’s nothing else. Making love, dancing. Fucking. Whatever you call it. It completes us. Yet the fear is always there. Electricity surging through our bodies, you shake as I leave my mark upon your neck. Eyes closed, you caress my face as I trace invisible symbols on the inside of your thigh. Not seeing makes it easier. Makes it unreal. I’ve become some kind of myth. A phantom that stalks the night. I’ve gone far beyond the realm of soft machines. There’s no cage for what I am and the plague I possess, and I’ll follow you wherever you go. Inside your mind and into the dreams you retreat to. Through memory and abstraction, I’m the shadow you can’t outrun.

Only you never run, because you always want to be caught.

Watching you as you stir before me, I marvel at your beauty, and the maze that’s contained within your head. It mirrors your heart. Endless possibilities and problems. Doubt and confusion, heavier than anyone could ever imagine. All you want is to be happy they say. To be like others. But you’ll never be like them. That’s why you invite me in every night. That’s why I come out to play when everyone else is sleeping, and why you never push me away. We are mirror images, our souls born of the same magic. Nothing will separate us. Neither mountains nor time can keep us apart. And no matter how much you try to leave me behind whilst the sun is shining, as soon as night falls across the wasteland we call home, I’m the only thing you can think about.

“You can be my Bone Daddy” you once said. “Something to make me yours” you said.

And yours is what I’ve always been.

Categories: Sex

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2 replies »

  1. Reblogged this on myredabyss and commented:

    I never tend to read my old posts. Yet when I do, I’m amazed at how I remember so little of my own words. It’s like it was written by someone else. A year ago almost to the day I wrote this, and I don’t have a fucking clue what I was on about.

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