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Triangle

by Plagious 

Posted: 10 November 2005
Word Count: 353
Summary: The end of an affair. A blend of emotive, physical and discarnate. The “cold turkey” of the separation expressed in terms of hypothermia; a flashback to more intimate times; finally, the hollowness inside and spiritual bereavement. The loss of the self, unable to find emotional solace or the understanding of “why”?
Related Works: Reptilian Chemicals • 

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fleeting summer moments
sumptuous and squalid
noble and dirty
unpredictable

he did not recall the instant
she cut him loose
umbilical severed
her hand raised
in goodbye?
to push?
nihilistic brown eyes
flashed and looked away

parallel
apart
no traction in the ether
to return
sapping of life’s warmth
in the dark vacuum

shivering to the very marrow
like foetal epileptic
skull chattering its greeting
to unseen friends in the dark

movements cease
all energy burned
ice rivers into the sea of his being
frost crystals on lashes
form on eyes
like cataracts
blindness comes
sightless sockets

* * *

memory

naked in city jungle
sleep subsumed with sticky satiation
salty sweat cooling
in gentle night breezes

inhaling in nape of tangled smoky hair
tight buttersoft behind
still slippery with oil
presses and stirs him
pulse quickens again

earlier
her mouth wide
head back
teeth bared
like angry ape
but
lascivious lines
betray sensual smile

resonance from deep within
as the harp played
her swooping
lively tobacco tongue
searching to kiss deeply
or gorge upon saline flesh

hamstrings taut
thighs stretched
in deep yoga embrace

scent marked with
sweet apricot musk
the most erotic perfume
inhale
sated

* * *

yet a ghost lay with them

as his hand cupped
her gentle breast
the life beating beneath
his were not the arms
she most desired

another strong hand she sought
for comfort
to possess her
to drive her
to darkest realms

(a siren pierced the still night
to attend the damaged and the damned)

* * *

faded memory
arctic reality

a heart may be torn in two
but who will hear the rip?

dark shadows creep across the senses
bringing that longest of sleeps

and in this inky blackness
with primal instinct
he sought the desert
only to find
phoenix flames flickering
with a reflected kaleidoscope
of forgotten flesh and faces

images dancing in the fire

yet
nothing beat within him
necessary for rebirth
just another stone
in the wilderness

his spirits ashes
lost in the
wind and sand

and all the dead know
is that it is better
to be alive






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