Our Ritual Act

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If my hands were to take you places. If these fingers crept along your thighs and circled the birthplace of wonder. If they pinched pinky flesh, there would be nothing left of the man you thought you once knew. In the back room, the place where dead flowers are strewn across make-shift beds. Drinking from the bottle, my tongue speaks a language not even I am accustomed to. Contorted through spasms of pain, my face is a mask. The real me is buried, lost somewhere in darkened corridors of childhood horrors. Shake and scream as the tears roll down your cheeks. Scratch at my belly and push me inside as the night sky above us explodes into a billion colours. Gaze into my eyes, into the ruins of my skull, and glimpse the obliterated man. Prise off my fingernails. Peel back my skin. Seek in me like I seek in you. Crawling. Lurching. Limbs disappearing as the sweat collects in your belly button. Inertia no longer, the sea calls you home. The oceans want their mother, whilst the child needs the birth of creation. A glimpse of your toes. The sight of your neck with bite marks ready and willing. The blood that pumps through us, pumping in a frenzy of sensation. This our ritual act, and there’s no going back.

Silence. Stillness. Slow motion moving as your dress ripples in cosmic winds. A hand upon your breast, and the rest is gone in the blink of an eye. Crimson areola, and the plucking of panties to elicit something more. Chewed ears and an arm around your throat. Squeezed tight whilst being a machine, you blossom like only a whore knows how. You say you need redeeming, yet you beg to be destroyed. To be torn to pieces beneath a black’d out light bulb and a moon that howls at the sight of our atrocity. Spreading you like storks of golden corn, I seek the animals and insects. Placing my mouth upon the centre of the universe, the atoms between us cease to be as lust takes over. Glittering specks of faith. Intimacy in unspoken words when hushed cries take over. Sail on the breeze between the gutter and the sun. Merge with the angels and demons that float on the edges of some kind of red abyss. Dance in armfuls of melting flesh. Dissolve in forever. Swallows the stars. Swallow the seeds of my ambition. Be rendered useless as I come undone. When everything ends, and we breathe our last, moments like these will be our legacy. The ecstasy of bliss. The dance between living and death where we only ever truly felt alive.

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