Post by Pseudomuse on Jun 5, 2006 9:11:42 GMT -8
oral fixation
I. at the tea-party
he winks and grins. his strawberry lips form the simple morphemes soundlessly: i’ll show you things you’ve never seen before. and she listens as his hand move like a mime, fascinated by the curves of his mouth. she hardly notices when his fingers creep up under the hem of her dress, she is too focused on his aperture: i’ll help you find your way back home.
II. fantasia
she knows she is going crazy, for nothing has ever felt this good (before).
oh alice…he mouths against her skin, her hands twisted in his hair, and the world explodes on itself.
oh alice... i’ll show you wonderland.
III. dis(re)memberment
somedays she remembers falling down a rabbit hole. something about waist-pocket watch-pieces, and kitten whiskers. but that all evaporates with his tongue tangled with hers, her nails carving half-moons on his hip-skin.
she sighs, and never wonders at this infatuation.
IV. periapt
he has been inside her, gouged deep, and rummaged through the chest of draws that is her heart. he has burned away her old aster affiliations. he fancies her hunger and fits it with his own.
she watches the play of purple clouds in a pink horizon. he once took her to the looking-glass, and revealed, skin against skin, that she is home.
for weeks it is the only word she can fathom. home.
V. infanticide
when he leaves, she suffocates herself in sheets that smell of strawberry.
this is not her neck he’s breaking…
I. at the tea-party
he winks and grins. his strawberry lips form the simple morphemes soundlessly: i’ll show you things you’ve never seen before. and she listens as his hand move like a mime, fascinated by the curves of his mouth. she hardly notices when his fingers creep up under the hem of her dress, she is too focused on his aperture: i’ll help you find your way back home.
II. fantasia
she knows she is going crazy, for nothing has ever felt this good (before).
oh alice…he mouths against her skin, her hands twisted in his hair, and the world explodes on itself.
oh alice... i’ll show you wonderland.
III. dis(re)memberment
somedays she remembers falling down a rabbit hole. something about waist-pocket watch-pieces, and kitten whiskers. but that all evaporates with his tongue tangled with hers, her nails carving half-moons on his hip-skin.
she sighs, and never wonders at this infatuation.
IV. periapt
he has been inside her, gouged deep, and rummaged through the chest of draws that is her heart. he has burned away her old aster affiliations. he fancies her hunger and fits it with his own.
she watches the play of purple clouds in a pink horizon. he once took her to the looking-glass, and revealed, skin against skin, that she is home.
for weeks it is the only word she can fathom. home.
V. infanticide
when he leaves, she suffocates herself in sheets that smell of strawberry.
this is not her neck he’s breaking…
