within · within

i feel pretty, oh so pretty...


i drink this tequila,
shot by shot
by shot
by shot
by... shot?
i don't count.
i feel sexy.
i wish you were here.
i wish all of you were here.
every inch of me wants your touch.
inch by inch
by inch
by inch
by... inch?
i don't count.
the heat inside,
the sweat outside,
and you
here
inside and outside.
that may be the tequila talking
or
me
talking
wanting
sweating
i don't count.
set me up another shot.


pretty? no... sexy. oh so sexy.

sometimes i catch myself falling...


“… you’re not supposed to slap, hit, kick, dig in your nails, be rough… when I pound my cock into that tight, wet pussy of yours, that’s only part of it. I know you like pain, and I know what kind of pain gets you wet, and I know what kind makes you scream, and I know what kind of pain you can’t get enough of…” he leaned in. his tongue flicked out, licking across her lips just before he crushed her mouth with his kiss. his hands never left his sides, and she struggled to keep hers down. he pressed against her, pushing her back. She finally had to grab at his shirt to keep from falling. He sucked a breath from her and stood up straight. She gasped, her hands falling to her sides. Breathlessly, she said, “you forgot to mention…” He looked at her curiously. She reached between his legs and squeezed hard. He crumpled a bit, and she brought her lips to his ear. “… it goes both ways.”


sometimes i catch myself just in time...

sweat...


i had a memory return to me... a memory
of being naked in your house. feeling the air all over
my flesh. feeling the slightest chill when my legs parted.
blinking away darkness, drawing in the tiniest sliver of
light, to recognize your shadow. a form with no detail
shifting under my touch, under my lips. i don't even bother
to close my eyes. the blur of differing densities and depths
of substances around me give me the impression of floating...
no walls, no ceiling, no doors, no direction. your hip
grazes mine. your hand traces my shoulder up to my neck,
and your breath takes mine. i melt away.


... and sigh...

awaiting clearance...


Their drinks having long ago melted into their weakened forms, she stood. She stretched. She sighed. ‘If the world ended tomorrow,’ she wondered aloud, “what would you regret?’
He rose slowly, standing very close. ‘Well, I would regret not having held you in my arms,’ he replied as he slipped one arm around her waist and another behind her shoulder, drawing her even closer. ‘I would regret not having breathed in your scent’, he whispered a he nuzzled up her throat and along her jaw line. ‘Ooh, that’s nice.’ His breath brushed across her skin lighting up a myriad of tiny electric shocks. ‘But most of all, I would regret not kissing you.’ And with that, his mouth was on hers, taking her breath and muffling his own moans.
She gripped his shoulders to stay on her feet. A short eternity later, hearts racing and bodies trembling, he raised his head. ‘Mm. I was right. You taste like a perfect English cup of tea.’ His lips curled. ‘I would have regretted not knowing that.’
‘Yes, well,’ she murmured. ‘We seem to have made quick work of your list.’
‘Oh,’ he chuckled. ‘That was very much the short list.’ His had drifted down the front of her blouse and began parting the buttons from the plackets. She gasped and backed up a step. She brought up a hand to cover his. She looked up into his maddeningly blue eyes. He smiled. ‘If the world ended tomorrow,’ he purred, ‘what would you regret?’
She blinked and drew her hand away. ‘I would regret not having said yes… many, many more times.’


clearance received...

speaking aloud, to no one in particular...


in my cells
i want the sex
in my bloodstream
i want the sex
in my flesh
i want the sex
in my mind
i want the pain
in my hands
i want the sex
in my mouth
i want the sex
under my tongue
there is a sex
behind my back
there is a sex
over my shoulder
there is a sex
between my legs
there is a sex
under my feet
there is a sex
behind my eyes
there is my sex


and in reply, from no one in particular...

finding myself somewhere between the commercial
and the priceless...


in this dream, a friend informs me that "it's ready."
she leads me through an indoor shopping mall to what
looks like a boutique. she grins and says, "it's yours."


it's mine. it's a dungeon for hire. i own a dungeon.
the shiny metal sign says the name is "brass apples".
(and i really have no idea what that means.)


i enter and meet a handful of sentries who look like
they could fold a trespasser in half with one hand.
a lovely young lady gives me a tour of my enterprise.
she leads me through rooms of various appointments for
various affectations and fetishes. she points out
the private rooms that offshoot from the main themed
areas. we even have a kitchen for refreshments...
with a small area sectioned off for kitchen fetishists.


i remember thinking this is something of a party,
an invitation-only event. the membership is vetted
and established; they know the rules, they play well.
i celebrate with my trust-worthy staff. i roam the
rooms and enjoy the energy to a point of intoxication.


i turn the corners and climb the stairs and as i walk
into the necessary room, i let myself fall face-first
onto a plush bed. "need something, boss?" a vinyl-clad
mistress asks me in her sweet yet strong voice.


"i need to sober up... and i need to get off," i mutter
into the bedding. i don't even have to look to know
she's smiling. "alright. stand up." i wearily find my
feet. she steps behind me and slides a dark silk scarf
over my eyes, tying it under my hair. "i've got just
the thing for you," she coos. i hear her vinyl creak
as she turns and turns back. warm, firm hands settle
on my shoulders from behind. her voice is heavy with
authority when she says "take care of the boss."


"yes, mistress." a soft, husky male voice replies.
he turns me slowly. i roll my head over to say
"thank you, mistress," and she noisily blows me a kiss.


i'm led to a private room. his hands slide over my body,
removing my clothes as he reaches them. he guides my
hands in undressing him. he presses a kiss on me,
pushing me back and off-balance. i gasp, thinking
i'm going to fall over, but he catches my body and
my breath, sending my heart racing. he backs me
up against the bed and pulls me onto my knees.
kneeling on the bed, hands gripping, pulling, sliding,
grabbing, rubbing... with my eyes covered, i have
my other senses drowning in luxurious overfill,
especially my flesh and a waterfall of friction.


he uses his body to guide me, and i follow every move,
every flexion and contraction. he pulls me astride
him. i moan a gasp at his heat entering mine. i ache
for each breath that accompanies each thrust and
collision. the electric charge gathers at the base
of my skull and shoots down my spine. as i feel
my orgasm building, i rip off my blindfold and gaze
into his eyes. i scream rapture and shudder ecstasy.
i collapse onto him, and i feel his hands slide over
my tremors.


his voice is ragged with heavy breathing, but he
manages to exhale, "yes, mistress." i sigh in return,
"thank you, mistress."


what is the cost of your breath?...

there was drinking, and falling, and dancing, and...


at this end of the island, i was a pirate. witty, wily,
and armed. i was oh-so-clever. surrounded by other
vacationers, i still felt oddly disconnected from the
conversation, so i left.


i stepped out into bright sunshine and brighter colors. at this end
of the island, i was on vacation with dozens of people. the hotel
was full, the bar was full, the streets were full. the trees danced
and birds cheered. the people were warm and bright. bright.
at this end of the island, everything was bright.


someone mentioned the island's rather relaxed view of wardrobe,
and somewhere my clothes simply weren't there anymore. and
next to the street, next to the sidewalk, was a sort of waterway.
something between a flume and a slide, water cascading apace.
a means of conveyance from one end of the island to the other.
this way, i traveled. sliding, flowing, cool water supported my
body and urged me along. i moved faster than foot traffic, slower
than auto traffic, and more comfortably than either. the currents
held my bare skin no less firmly than the hands i would encounter
at the other end of the island.


many minutes passed as i washed past streets and buildings and blocks,
ending at last at the other end of the island, at the doorstep of
the island's most popular club. i stepped out of the water and into
the dim interior, my naked body earning not much more than cursory
notice as fully half the patrons were baring most if not all their flesh.
i took note of a man on the other side of the room. something about him
struck me as confident and relaxed in the midst of so much activity and
attention seeking.


i awaited the arrival of friends, who brought clothes for me. i pulled
the fabric over my skin, the friction in contrast to my watery transport.
we ordered drinks and made our way around the bar to booths upstairs...
except for the moment that i turned around and stumbled against the man
i had seen before. i fell back, and his arm shot out to catch me around
my waist. i made my heady apology, which he waved off with a grin.
i invited him to join me and my friends upstairs, and he accepted.


i danced. he danced. we danced ever closer. we danced to the point
beyond denial. he led me to his jeep, top down, and we rode from
this end of the island to the other end of the island. i led him to
the swimming pool behind my hotel. we stripped out of our clothes
and entered the cool water. i felt the water on my flesh. i felt
his hands on my flesh. i felt his lips on mine. i felt his flesh on mine.
i felt him inside of me. i locked my kiss on his to muffle our screams.


we rose from the water and stretched out under the sun, less bright than
before and casting longer shadows. we traded caresses. we pulled on
our clothes and headed into the hotel. we rode the elevator up, our
bodies in close contact, trading heat. we reached my room. i opened
the door and entered, dropping my shirt on the bed as i passed it.
he turned me to face him, sliding his hand down my back and into my
shorts. we each stripped the other, our clothes once again discarded.
we mussed the bedsheets under our bodies. we re-arranged the furniture
to suit our desire and hunger. i pleasured him at the celing-to-floor
window. he threw me onto the bed. we wrestled for control. we both lost.


sunshine, and shadow...

a temperate season, an intemperate heart...




want me?
how do you want me?
suddenly and blindly,
or with deep longing and aching need...
does the hunger consume you,
or do you smolder with each slow second...
do you burn, are you lost to madness,
can you scarcely control your trembling?
will you lose hours, days, your life
to fantasy and desire unrequited?
want me?


want me?
how do you want me?
in the dark, in the shadows
caressing long strokes
and whispers to entice,
teasing and tempting and torturing,
luring and leading,
would you take your time to seduce me?
or do you want me
right here
right now
anywhere
everywhere
regardless
impatient and taking
commanding and demanding
primal
can you bear to wait another second?
want me?


want me?
how do you want me?
am i convenient
available
will i do?
or will no other do?
do you want me completely
absolutely, wholly, unreservedly,
unabashedly, without hesitation,
shamelessly or shamefully?
want me?


want me?
how do you want me?
do you want me
like i want you?
want me?




the season will turn, and my head turns around...

when "in the blood" takes on new meaning...


i dream wicked things.


i remember only a small part of this dream. i had
spent most of my night's life being surreptitious.
i was trying to prove that this handsome, charming
man had killed a woman. i tried to convince others
of my beliefs. i looked for proof. i risked being
discovered, a thrill that did not go unnoticed.


i did not hide the fact that i harbored him ill will.
he returned my venomous glares with long, hungry looks
and seductive, sly grins. a confrontation was at hand.


he caught me in his office one night as i was searching
for... whatever it was i was searching for. he locked
the door behind him. he invited me to extend my holiday
(here i realized in my dream that this was a resort).
i refused flatly. he insisted, persisted, attempted
to persuade me to relax as he sidled closer. i soon
found myself at his hands trying to keep my breathing
under some control.


he drew me in and said,
"let see what we can do about
getting you to stay here for...


ever."


he kissed me fiercely. the moment degenerated quickly
into the explorations of hands and mouths, even as i knew
he was a dangerous man who probably intended to kill me.
our clothes slipped to floor, and he lifted me onto the
edge of his desk.


he slid slowly down my torso, breathing over my skin. he knelt
between my legs and wrapped his arms under my thighs. without
another word, sound, or moment's wait, his mouth was on
my warmest parts, and my moans grew from belly. the fire
burned from his tongue to my clit and up through every
nerve in my body. i felt a sharp sting as he took my flesh
between his teeth. more heat flooded my brain and body.
i felt more heat, more wetness... more than i thought
i should. more bites, more frenzy from him. my pleasure
was shadowed with fear. he lifted his head, and his mouth
was covered with my blood.


he moved quickly, suddenly covering my mouth with his own,
forcing my own blood onto my tongue. at the same time,
he entered me with a single thrust. he overwhelmed me.
i couldn't catch my breath, my pulse was out of control,
i burned from scalp to sole, and blood trickled own my throat.
he growled and slid his mouth along my jaw to my neck and
shoulder. i gasped and screamed. he murmured against my skin,
but i couldn't hear the words. his hips continued to rock
mine. i felt my heart rise in my throat. each moment brought
climax closer and closer, my strangled moans rising in pitch.
his lips vibrated on my skin with more urgings. the thunder
chased the fire rising from our connected heat. i could make
out, "take it... take it..." just as climax overcame us both...
and i sank my teeth into his neck.


with his laughter still surrounding me... i woke.


where fantasy and fear become one...

born of dreams and sweat, it grows...


this pussy is hungry
i feel its need
that which pulls deep inside
i feel its heat
that which soaks into my own flesh
a plea within becomes a growl
heaving, pulsing in urge
offerred the sensations of flesh
but not flesh
devouring all within reach
lipsmacking
greedy
biting the hand that feeds
binging on idols and avatars
this pussy is hungry
carnivorous, starved of meat
yearning, deprived of nourishment
sleepless
yet insistent
denied a proper meal
denied a taste
this pussy wants
this pussy craves
this pussy demands
this pussy hungers...


it grows, feeding on the passing moments and the blood of fantasy

the waking, the second part, the wash...


and i woke to a rush of heat flooding my body,
my skin suddenly drenched with hot sweat.
i blinked away quickly-fading dream imagery.
the sudden flame rushing my flesh frightened me
further awake; i felt the sweat bursting outward.
the nape of my neck, the inner bend of my elbow,
the back of my knee, down my spine.
i sat up, and it all rolled down my body. i pushed
my hair away from my face. i sighed deeply.


i made my way to the shower, pushed back the curtain,
and ran the water cool. i stepped in, drawing the
curtain back into place, and held my head under the
spray. the cool water flooded my hair and washed
over my scalp. the shower rinsed away the sweat
and heat... but not the dream. as the spray ran
across my neck and shoulders, an image flashed in my
head. rivulets ran down my back and over my thighs, and
i recalled the feel of the dream. a cool wash covered
my breasts... and i saw his face.


i remembered the dance, the music, the heat between our
bodies, the fabric pulling against my skin, his voice
against my neck, and the feeling of fullness from our sex.
i touched my neck and with my fingers, i followed the
water down across my breasts and firming nipples, down
across my belly, and down. my fingers slipped between my
legs and found my persistent heat, still tender with dream-
wakened nerves and my fervent pulse. i reached up and took
down the hand-held shower-head adjusting the spray to pulse.
with fingers on my free hand, i spread the flesh apart, and
with my other hand, i directed the pulse of water on my
exposed, engorged clitoris. the shock of electricity shot
up my spine, seizing my shoulders and neck. as my heartbeat
accelerated, i shut my eyes and found myself back on the
balcony of my dream. my thighs tensed, and i saw myself
pulling his body against mine. the pulsing spray of water
massaged nerves between my fingertips, and felt the rush
of the dream-orgasm. my hips tilted, and my shoulders pulled
inward. again, i felt the flesh of my dream-lover pressed
into mine and his body bucking against my own climax. again,
i felt a fireball form in my belly, shooting upwards along
my veins into my skull and exploding downward, muscles
contracting and spasming as the orgasm took my whole body.
i cried out from deep within as my dream climaxed at my hands.
i steadied myself against the wall of the shower and replaced
the shower-head. i breathed deeply and let the spray wash
over my flesh again. i breathed deeply and closed my eyes.
i breathed deeply.


my dreams and my waking life sometimes
result in similar physical... reactions.

the slumber, the first part, the dance...

i was aware i was dreaming. i knew what was going on, following the dream logic.
the dream converged at a dance, everyone dancing, celebrating being.
i... i was... i had power. we all had power. we were using our power
while dancing. i engaged myself with an athletic blond who blushed
at my familiar touch, my legs below my skirt-hem brushing his.
i explained my power... "i'm honeymoon love." i was that power created
between a couple physically celebrating their union. the youth smiled
and perspired as we were cheered on by other dancers through to the end
of the song. i kissed his cheek and stepped away as i heard the next
song begin... a ballad, one that struck me to my core. i stopped at a
column, half hiding, half peering around the corner at the singer. my
breath caught, my heart paused in its rhythm. hands slipped over mine,
and i spun quickly around, finding myself in the arms of a handsome man.

he swept me into step. he guided me around the edge of the dancing
crowd, turning in slightly, spiraling into the center of the throng.
dancers parted and stepped back, making an audience for us. our eyes
never glanced away from each other's gaze. as the last notes of the song
echoed around the hall, he drew up his hand, tilted up my chin, and
pressed his lips to mine. i trembled in his arms. as he raised hs lips
from mine and our eyes opened softly, he whispered,
"i'm perfect romance." i smiled. he smiled. he was the power of the
most perfect idyll created between two people. i turned my head to
the singer and winked. a new song started... a sexy, smoldering song.
i danced for him, with him, on him. our hands drifted across our bodies.
my back arched. i hooked my leg around his. he caught me at my waist
as i leaned waaaaay back as the song ended. we were rewarded with
cheering and applause. he pulled me upright slowly, tracing his lips
up through my cleavage then my neck. we resigned the dance floor to
the other dancers and walked together to the balcony.

i slid along the wrought-iron railing to the corner and turned to face
him. he placed his hands on either side of me. "i would like very much
to make love to you," he said. "i can't say i'm surprised," i replied.
he added, "right now." i blinked and curled a smile off a corner of my lips.
he lowered his hands to my hips as he leaned into me, kissing me deeply.
he lifted me, and i wrapped my legs around his hips. he reached between
us, our kiss breaking off, our eyes meeting and locking, and he unfastened
his trousers. with his tumescence in hand, he pushed aside my panties
and pressed in. i swallowed a gasp and pulled him toward me with my legs.
i grabbed the back of his neck with one hand and supported myself with
the other on the wrought-iron at my back. he kept one hand on my hip
and also grabbed the railing behind me. i inhaled and exhaled with
each slow, deep push within me. i could see his jaw clenched and feel
the heat coming from him clashing with my own. i pulled his head
forward and kissed his lips with short, quick impact. "you do realize,"
i whispered, "that what you're really doing... is fucking me... right?"

i muffled his answer with an intense kiss. dancers and partyers milled
in and out from the balcony, paying us no mind. our pace quickened.
our breaths quickened. we strained to supress our moans. i felt the
electricity travel from the base of my skull, down my spine and into
our connection. he must have felt something as powerful, as we both
pulled harder against each other. i pulled myself up to his face.
we kissed, and the kiss smothered our cries of extreme pleasure.
we took a long moment to catch our breaths. he reached down to readjust
himself. i let gravity slide me from his body. we both held fast
to the railing until we regained the strength to stand on our own...

and i woke to a rush of heat flooding my body,
my skin suddenly drenched with hot sweat.

i find myself at times whispering your name to no one...


i had a dream about you.


there was a house, a mansion. many tastefully appointed rooms, and all the rooms were filled with people. many attractive people. all on your invitation.


this was a party. your party. you wanted to host a party, and, as you told me in my handwritten invitation written in gold ink on ivory parchment, you wanted this party to also serve as my birthday celebration. what you wanted and what i wanted and what together we could have... an orgy.


also at the top of the guest list were many of your lady friends, exquisitely accommodating. they were soft of word, charming of smile and gentle of touch. there were several young men, giving of compliments and of their bodies. many hands, fingertips, gliding along so much flesh like warm silk. energies shifting from room to room to room to room.


up stairs around corners through rooms down stairs across tiles over couches and beds and rugs


i kissed many lips and necks, traced my tongue up the insides of many thighs. i felt many, many hands through my hair and down to my feet and alllll overrrrr...


everyone was in a relaxed and jovial mood. the unspoken expectation was that the party wouldn't be declared a success until the first orgasm, yet no one was really trying to push anyone over the edge. endless torturous pleasure raising the craving and feeding the need until


the currents of bodies pushed us randomly, separately into the same room. you, me, a few young ladies of varying... talents. our bodies flush with the flow of blood, our exhalations almost steam from our lips. you, urged down onto a chair. i was escorted astride you. encouraging hands and purring voices, my arching back, your bucking hips, more and more, more, more and more, with your shuddering gasp of release and my scream of ultimate pleasure rippling through our approving audience.


the rest of the evening continued as before, with guests eventually leaving. it was you and me and a young lady lazing in bed watching a movie on television, our bodies intertwined when we finally fell asleep.


i find myself at times listening... for a whisper

open eyes, open palms...


like boiling inside,
like a sun's radiation burning inside,
like every fiber of every muscle
contracting and flexing repeatedly,
like heartbreak, heartache, heartsick, all at once...


he makes me feel... everything.
he makes me want... everything.
he makes me.


but he awakens my sadism.
he makes my muscles growl.
he fuels my desire to beat him, bruise him, bleed him...


yet "he" soothes me, quiets my soul,
breathes for me, orchestrates my dreams,
and quenches my thirst... for "him".


and he draws me in,
inside what he seems to be,
inside what he is,
inside myself.


i crave his look.
i crave his flesh.
i crave "his" center.
i crave his world.


ah, but these men are only fiction.
existing in one time, another place.
when my hunger and want take me,
i draw back the curtain on my fantasies.


lips parted, legs parted...

breathe deeply. inhale. inspire.




i'm drowning in my lust.


the dreams come to me, night after night.


i writhe. the sheets slide over my flesh.
my body is flush with heat.


when i wake, my vision is hazy with fantasy,
crushed, bitten and bruised, sighing and gasping,
the showers, the belts, giggling, screaming...


i am in thrall to my own desire.




breathing is so... hard.

if i could only remember how...


i woke this morning with a splitting headache,
and my eyes felt like they had been bleached.
i yawned and felt a pull at my lower lip.
i touched my tongue to what felt like a puncture, a bite.
but did i bite the inside of my lower lip? or did someone else?


i rolled out of bed, dropping my feet to the floor. a sting traveled
across the heel of my right foot. i turned my foot up to find a bandage,
and underneath the bandage, a cut, cleaned and oily with ointment. that's
going to make getting around today a joy. i replaced the bandage and
made my way on the balls of my feet. my hair was sticky and matted,
and i smelled of whiskey, cola, and ash.


i slid my hand up the wall to turn on the light, revealing a shadowy bruise
across the back of my left hand; a thin scratch paralleled it.


my mind was an engine trying to catch ignition. my mind's eye framed
murky moments with no content. i could hear the echo of laughter, shrieks,
cries, crashes, splashes, and thuds. i recalled the taste of someone...


as i caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror, i groaned. i looked like
an old copy that's been reproduced until the toner smudged and faded,
save for the pink yet bloodless scratch following the curve of my left
breast. i looked down and wondered again, "but did i do that? or
someone else?" i sighed at my inability to fix a memory. i ran hot water
and started a shower to wash away what i couldn't remember. i felt...


about halfway up the inside of my right thigh... are those... teeth marks?


i can guess the "how", "why" really isn't of consequence, but "who"...
"who" is always either a delight or a disappointment. i hope i'm the former.

one full moon, one onyx sky, one degree of turning...


i see myself with my back arched, my head back,
my eyes almost closed, my flesh alive and on fire...


winter wakes up a part of me that feels.
it's as if i can taste the world around me through my skin.
i hear a chill wind ringing the bones of my spine.
my eyes are frozen desire.


when the air around me nips at my flesh, it serves to fuel
the warmer parts of me... my heat is warmer and wetter,
and my nerves dance under the phantom touch of spectral hands.
every caress softer, every sting sharper,
recorded for the moment's infinity on my body.
impression...


will you hear my whispered pleas?
warm words pressed into cool air, a wicked prayer,
meant not for heaven, but for you.


turning on my axis, turning inside outside inside, turning to face...

my vision blurs with the memory of fantasy, and now i can't see where i'm going...


i feel it like a drop of wine rolling over the curve of my lip,
hanging for a brief eternity, spilling onto my chin, sliding down,
and freefalling onto the curve of my breast, initally chilling,
then warming with the flesh. a tiny strip of skin wet with wine.
the grape's essence lingering on my bottom lip and the tip of
my tongue. i trace the path backwards with a fingertip, up from my
cleavage to my throat, my chin, my lip, to gift myself with the
taste of myself mixed with the distillation of desire...


the world is overlaid with the image of my dream.

i feel something hanging around me, like a shifting, grainy cloud. i feel something dark ebbing and flowing at the edges of my periphery.


it's her gentle, feathery touch that i miss.
she would brush her lips across mine and trace her fingertips
along my skin, from behind my ear, down and across my throat,
between my breasts... she sent shivery little shocks along
every nerve with her weightless caress.


it's her swift sting that i miss.
she would take one nipple between her lips and tease it to such
hardness i would cry out. then she would turn her head and
bite down sharply on my breast, making me gasp and moan.
she would pinch my other nipple tightly enough to leave her thumbprint.
i would bite my lip and tremble.


it's her delicious laughter i miss.
it's her wicked eyes i miss.
it's her hunger i miss.
it's her...


i feel something hanging about me. it feels... dangerous.

for the last couple of days,
i have felt this almost all-consuming
hunger
this trembling, wrenching ache
deep down

this craving brings dreams,
such dreams...


i dreamt of being chased, running,
escaping
with him, hand-in-hand
we ran, climbed, searched for the way
we found horses, and rode them fast
fast, fast, faster, faster,
until
we stopped long enough for him to mount
my horse
behind me
and me
from behind
and we rode fast
fast, fast, oh so fast
each gallop pushing each thrust deeper
as i gripped the mane tighter
tighter, faster, faster
i felt the hard, thick, straining muscles
of the horse beneath me
i felt the flesh on my flesh
of my lover behind me, inside me
i felt energy burn through me
tremors destroyed me from within and without
my breath drummed out of me
and yet
i held fast
and rode
and escaped


do dreams really only last a few seconds? can a few seconds cause the body to tremble for so much longer?