Women Seeking Women #88 - Scene 2

The piece dropped November 23rd, 2012. Summer torrents blanket the floor. Sweat's christened them sex. We fucked toward hell that night, violent and unrepentant. Don't want grace. Need sweat, my teeth rasping at your thrashing gut. Grip collapsing around your pitiless mouthpiece, mouth gaping, spine thrown to strict geometry, blonde fur matted and death-pale skin shining beneath. Collar bones vanish, rib-shelf sharpens. The only sound pouring out between clamped jaws barely carries, a raw echo of being mounted while red blood throbs in upper thighs. Brand my soul against wetness, rumble like a stalled engine just missing combustion. These minutes stipple the flesh with first blush bruises. Mouth hovers on fire-quiet chain marks around your edges. Come again for half-murmured dead language seeping past bitten tongues; lavender-drift memory masking newer bites, lingers like salt after storms. We picture oceans swaying through concrete rain just beyond blinds while boy-groans and girl-whimper bits sync in nocturnal viscosity on the warped parquet. I'll know this wet metal tang, these salt streaks all over baked, hotgoing-penned human.—released thirty seconds later—tripled gaze, half-closed eyes and half-violence, and once every wind had shattered coming heard every bodily acknowledgment deep inside, keeping watch on it outlasted echo, scar-longing crazy lit half-invisible in meager low light grey fully dead cordoning bounds of time the filtered blue smoke ice-veined black, spreading the gasps real-wide pretty openly with just its fingers blurring careless mouthparts and dialect.