closer. #2

Closer. #2

Closer. Gently I pull his face towards mine with a smile. Both hands holding his jaw firmly and I can feel the lines of his mouth lift to match my grin. Both my arms tightly locked with the intent to move in. So very innocently I look up into those eyes and try to match their gaze. He lowers his arms and I reach over. His breath hits my cheek in deep heavy blows of anticipation. Finally my face is resting against his and he’s waiting for it. The tip of my nose meets his cheek and I giggle. He remains still and solemn allowing my gentle affections to progress. Carefully my lips find their way upwards. Closer. Lightly I push tiny little kisses against his skin. Lips flit over and around the eyes before making their journey to the ears. Delicate little flutters of his eyes caress my face as I move. Hot breath escapes the warmth of my open mouth as I continue to address the situation. Never breaking my hold of his jaw I begin nursing my target with the tenderness of a skilled surgeon. The lobe of his ear is tender to my kiss. Without indicating any warning I gently open to spread my lips further for a tickle with my tongue. Mouth continues to move back around when he laughs at my silliness. Closer. Carefully I withdraw my lips and add a breath of warm air into his ear. He presses a slight pressure against my cheek with his lips. Drawing back I tenderly kiss his neck with my lips before climbing back up around his ear. His pressure against my skin slowly intensifies as I draw out my intention. Quietly his breath increases with excitement. Tenderly I hold onto his jawbone making it clear that he is to remain still. The sound of his breath is growing deeper while I continue to tickle and press into the opening with my breath. As he attempts to draw back with simple pleasure I persist in keeping him close. Waiting for a sound that hasn’t made its presence known, his nose presses against my cheek to tease it out. Closer. Finally the tip of my tongue softly pushes back against the top of my mouth until there is no barrier. With no more than a breath I tell him, “Do you want to know a secret?”

400. Revision. Drastic. 180.  This about face has been sitting aside since June 2010. Things have been winding closer towards the inevitable and why not something dramatic. enjoy life, love and breathing with you and yours. kisses. m.

Affair.

Affair.

“As I can recall it’s a lot more attention than I want to draw…” he says it with a smile that lets me know that he’s in.

But of course he’s in. He’s always in.

The lobby of the hotel where we meet is always packed by the rush hour hustle of people escaping back into their lives while we’re escaping into each other’s arms. Every time we meet again it’s another excuse when it shouldn’t be.

Tumbling away from his arms I throw myself face first into the sheets to muffle my screams of pure sheer ecstasy.

Like clockwork and the steady hands of a timepiece we’ve finished making love on the floor next to the bedroom for the third time when it happens, the same as it always happens.

“No more. We shouldn’t...” I tell him.

He moves his hands a little further down past my waist and leaves them on the back of my thigh. “You always do this. You want to do this. Shhh.”

“It’s always what we want. Don’t you think we’re being selfish?” I posture my question and place three small kisses on his chest.

“Selfish. What could be selfish about love?” He turns the question back at me while playing with the soft flesh on the back of my knee.

As we embrace there’s a man with a woman possibly his wife watching us in silence. Between our breathing sounds I can see them stare from the corner of my eye while he leans in to kiss my neck. Attention, it’s always more than we need but there’s no denying the need for us. The couple moves on while we lose ourselves in another kiss.

“Love? I guess… it’s not what I’m saying. Don’t you think it’s unfair how we do this? We have to run away together, this way. The escape from our…”

“Lives? How else would we? Can you imagine if we didn’t escape?”

“The thought of having to make this work between our lives seems impossible… Yet we do.” My words are softer as I look into his eyes.

“We make this work?” The beat of his heart makes mine stop as he leans to kiss me.

Outside I let him hold me closer than before when he asks, “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. No more excuses.”

“As I can recall it’s a lot more attention than I want to draw…”

Love affairs. I was told today about another love affair and I said “I’m not surprised about that at all” the  person telling me says “Really, I am.” Which that statement made me jump as there isn’t enough out there. People don’t take chances to have great love affairs. And for those few that do... I love to see people make it work. They make time in their routine for each other. Regardless of when it seems to be a struggle. And sometimes it isn’t what it seems to be, you can’t be so quick to jump to conclusions or react poorly. "Not everything is about you." That sometimes is the hardest truth for people to swallow. Yet, eventually they do. Anyway, thinking of Matisse tonight. Working on a couple of things. Love to juggle those knives. Enjoy life, love and breathing. Kisses my loves, m.

Slow Hands

“Johnny liked to use his hands too much. I like hands and fingers.” 

“…you liked men to use their hands, didn't you?”
 “No, I said I liked Johnny to use his hands. I don't make any rules… I go with the flow.” 

Basic Instinct. (1992)

Slow Hands.

The clock rolls around to three and I’m touching his bare thigh with my left hand. Slowly he lifts my hand and returns to touch my stomach.

 “Slow.” I tell him.

“I like it when you use your hands. Slow.” I tell him as soon as he’s finished asking what I want while I watch him walk his fingers down my torso. There’s more than enough time and he’s always telling me how much it means to him when I tell him what I want. So this time I do. I’m not afraid. I’m in control and he knows it.

“How?” he smiles and blushes and slightly leans across the bed.

“Improvise.” My lips breathe out the one thing I can’t get enough of and he’s still playing coy. No rules is the one thing I’ve never pressed him for and this time I’m pushing all the way. Watching him kiss my breasts I’m reminded how much I love when a man can openly experiment without restraint.

“Anything?” he tells me while pressing both of my hands above my head and kissing my neck.

“Anything,” I pant loudly, “Just use your hands. I want your fingers inside my…”

“Your mouth? I can put them in your mouth.”

“You can put them anywhere you want.” I smile. “Use your imagination.”

“Is that what you want?”

“More than anything. But nice and slow. I like it slow.”

Slow and softly his hand moves up my thighs. Slowly he reaches between my legs and lets me know with a touch what’s to come. Smiling I encourage more. Without the slightest bit of restraint he continues. One finger. Two fingers. Three. Then four.

The rush of penetration sends my heart spinning and pounding fiercely. I want to scream but I don’t. With a devilish smile he continues to press into me. I want more and he knows it. The deeper he goes the more I can’t seem to get enough. His eyes never leaving mine, all the way he presses his hand slowly.

Gently he kisses my mouth before letting go of my hands. Newly free his other hand begins to explore the back of my neck and moves down to my breasts. Never moving my hands I let him continue until his hands slowly break free from their journey.  Without another set of words he looks at me before starting in once more.

Slow Hands. Gotta love a man that knows how to use his hands. Even if they are slow. slow is good. And with that said… I’m going to plead the 5^th, quote Matisse, and let you use your imagination. Enjoy. Kisses. m.

Brief Encounter.

Brief Encounter.

The sheets are gathered around her waist as she lies quietly. I watch the air constrict and release from her body while she slumbers next to me. I can hardly believe we were complete strangers with nothing more than a common glance less than three hours ago.

A glance.

Passing on the street.

It wasn’t as though time stopped.

It wasn’t that at all.

It was as if time were no longer a relevant constant in the world.

They say that in a look a world can be built and shattered all at once.

You can see your past, present and future in someone’s eyes and know.

And from the moment her eyes met mine I knew the connection was more powerful than could be imagined.

And I had to…

I just had to…

Meet her.

There may have been words when we spoke but I’m uncertain if there were many. I know she agreed and nodded to come with me without hesitation. I wrapped my hands around her and she let hers fall around mine. We’re walking together but not quick enough. The intensity is growing between us and I stop her in the street to take hold of her. Gently I stare into her eyes and let my breath hit her face until it’s irresistible to hold back any longer.

Grasping hands

Make amends.

Touching faces

Seek hidden places

To explore the unknown.

Before the unknown can begin there’s the need to protect our best interests. My fumbling hands can’t seem to manage the seal when she gently lends hers to guide the way. With quickness we’re back in each others eyes, falling into the rhythm that knows nothing of words. Heartbeats make music of our slow union. As our passion climbs and fades she falls away from me. When she’s far I’m filled with an aching of longing and release. Her eyes need only to say “more” without words and I’m tumbling back in and taking her with me once again. Its complete confusion between our two bodies as the moment continues to take hold.

We’ve known each other less than three hours and it’s a lifetime within a life. As she turns her head both eyes open to match and look into mine. I’m lost in another world once more with our combined stare.

No moment will last forever. But at this moment now is forever.

Brief Encounter. However brief the moments in life are, they are precious and meant to be enjoyed... safely. Thinking of Matisse. Enjoy life, love and breathing. Kisses. m.

Green-eyed.

Green-eyed.

“You have the loveliest green eyes.” is what he always used to tell me the same as he’s telling me now.

But it’s too late for all that.

My blood stained hands grip his face tightly. I need to make him understand why I did it and I’m not even sure I know what happened.

It happened in a flash. Faster than I could count to ten. My own actions moving faster than I could think. All I can remember is what he was doing before…

There he was. Three feet away from me standing under the grey oak talking with her and all I can remember is how hard it is to breathe. It’s not the first time, but I’m certain there shouldn’t be another time.

I can hear his heartbeat as clear as any sound. The feeling of his pulse beats in his veins beneath the touch of my fingers. As his hands struggle to touch mine his breath edges out three more syllables. “I love you.” And he pulls closer to say another four that contradict those same three. “But I hate you.”

There’s no rhyme or reason when it comes to love. A man will tell you he loves you and then take it away in the same breath of words. You can’t control that.

It wasn’t him I wanted to hurt. It’s her. The one whose fault it is. At least that’s the lie I keep telling myself. When she doesn’t matter at all.

Somewhere in my head the moment it all came down replays like a broken record that’s happened to somebody else. But it didn’t. It’s happened to me. And I’m the reason for it.

Three feet pass by like a wave of nothing. Hands move and fly toward my screaming voice that never stops when I’m looking at him. Between the screaming and waving hands that irrelevant person it’s not about disappears without leaving.

When it happens there’s no one between us. In goes the knife in the middle of our argument. The pain feels loud but there’s no more screaming after it goes in. Down he lays me as the knife slices deeper into my gut. As he holds my guilty hands, I still think of how hard it is to breathe.

I wanted to hurt him but I wounded myself instead. That’s the thing though, jealously will get you nowhere.

400. Green-eyed? Not at the moment. Just a brown-eyed girl. How about you… Are you a jealous person? It’s there in all of us, but do you let it overtake you? Some of us learn to control that urge. It can be controlled. Promise.

Needless to say, art imitates life. Sort of? I was talking with someone a couple weeks ago about the nature of jealously. Now, I’m going to spin this a little for both of their benefit as it’s not important who it is.

This young person, in this instance I’ll say young lady decided that things weren’t quite working out the way she’d wanted with a certain young man she’d been seeing. So what does she do? She decides to make him jealous by canoodling with another young man. Well, that’s not the part of the story I found myself listening to. No, not at all. The part I’m hearing is the aftermath and it is simply this: “Why didn’t he care that I’m with someone else?”

Well the answer is this: He may have cared. He most likely did care. But he didn’t seem to because you can’t control his reaction. And honestly, I doubt any person would want to give a reaction if that’s the behavior. Inciting jealously in someone to get them to pay more attention to you will not work. If you want someone’s attention, please tell them. There is no need to complicate things with control. You can not control people, but you can control yourself. So why punch, hit, slap or attack on any level when you can find a small way to show your attention? Be the change you want to see.

The truth is that we don’t always have the answer. Well the right answers within us initially. It’s not that we don’t want to. We do. It’s that as humans we are often guided by our desire to see things our way. That’s not always going to be so. There is a better way and sometimes it comes from somewhere else.

Anyhow… I’m not quite caught up on everything but enjoying it nonetheless. Also I’m amid an interesting revision between working in pairs. Enjoy. kisses. m.

Tighter.

Tighter.

Through the low lights of approaching evening we are two that become one. Hand in hand walking, our arms locked into each other while our feet match the same stride. The graceful descent of the sun cascades a shadow of lavender across the horizon and a slight chill to the air. The houses seem quieter and less than inviting to our passing steps. Our movements manage to dance in unison through this empty street alone without notice.

The silence that surrounds us sends him into a whimsical mood. With a slip of a hand his arm wraps over and around me with a spin stopping our forward pace. Closer he turns me again and again before taking me in. Hugging gently, his sliding arms circle and lock around my torso. His fingers interlace behind my back. Each finger reaches inward as if to take me in whole. Tighter.

Attempting to match his embrace, my hands scramble. Both arms are struggling to return his hold. Dancing with his merging frame, tighter they squeeze and begin moving closer together. Carefully my probing hands find their way around his body until one ends where another begins. Locking in a grip that rests in the small of his back while my head finds its place upon his chest. Tighter.

The night becomes cooler in our surroundings. Light purple becomes a deeper violet and we’re wrapped around each other in a hold. Our arms are gripping each other securely and pulling without restraint until there is nothing between them. The crushing force of our weight against each other completes the circle. My face rests on his chest looking up into his eyes. His eyes look down into mine and he releases a heavy breath upon my face. I rest my lips upon his neck with a gentle kiss and squeeze. His arms return the constriction and his lips touch my forehead. Our breathing sounds deeper through the force of our embrace. Strained shallow breathes escape with a heaviness that’s familiar. Tighter.  

Our bodies have no beginning and no end in the last light of the day. There are no sounds around us. No streets, no houses,  and no one walking through the night. There’s only this feeling of security in our circle. In this moment we’re all alone. Alone in the world but we’re connected in our own moment. There’s nothing and no one anymore.

400. Tighter. A hug. You can lose yourself in a moment. Especially one that seems like it goes on forever. And moments are the best way to lose yourself. Have you ever had such a moment? Stay present. There are many great things in this life that pass by without notice. Each one no less significant than another. Enjoy. kisses. m. 

Care to. . .

Care to dance?

“Care to dance? Find a little comfort in a stranger’s arms?”

“It’s been a while but we’re hardly strangers.”

“Of course we’re not. Come let’s dance for a while.”

“I’m sorry but I wasn’t thinking of dancing just yet.”

“Simply think of it as keeping me company. Nothing of strings, rendezvous, or love affairs. Just a spin around the dance floor. Nothing more than a dance. Foxtrot? Waltz?”

“Hold me. Spin me. Thrill me.”

“Now you have the idea. Tell me what brings you out among the lonely hearts tonight? I thought your dance card was full.”

“It was something like that for a bit. And now I’ve found it to be empty.”

“Well, it won’t be long until your card fills up and the line forms again.”

“I hope you’re right. Shall we old friend? And you can tell me what brings you here.”

“It’s been awhile now. He left before there could be anything. Afraid of what hasn't happen. Beat me to the start like so many times I had in the past. The whole time knowing what it was like as I watched him run out of fear.”

“Do you remember what it was like when you held that fear? Dip.”

“Yes, I remember how the world was. Nothing like it is now. Maybe I could’ve...? I’m a fool.”

“You can’t blame yourself for his actions. We’re all afraid at one point. Some run the wrong way. Was it love?”

“Couldn’t say. I liked him. Nice fellow. There’s no way to know about that now. And the last one that filled your card?”

“She wanted something that wasn’t there. Looking for something when all she had to do was believe in it.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“The dissatisfaction? I don’t know. But it’s nothing I could change. She had to decide.”

“Some people can’t decide.”

“This is true. Feel free to lean in.”

“Can I? It’s not an imposition?”

“Not at all.  I’m enjoying your company.”

“Likewise. This is lovely.”

“It is. But let’s have a spin first. Then you can come closer.”

“Very nice. I had no idea you could dance like this.”

“Thank you. It’s been nice to dance with good company.”

“You’re welcome. I’ve enjoyed this too. And now from the looks of it your card is about to get a new entry.”

“So it is. Care to dance a little longer?”

400. A dance. Dancing makes me happy. How about you? Nothing more harmless than a dance. Finding the balance on the dizzying edge of the cliff and loving every second of it. Although that’s another dance entirely, it is worth it. As there are many. And sadly I can not give more tonight, but there is more to come. enjoy. kisses. m.

Breathe.

Unexposed Nude Woman in the Bathtub... - Peter Stackpole

Breathe.

Slinking into the white porcelain basin beneath the velvet blanket of wetness my skin slides until the top of my breasts are visible. From outer reaches beyond the white-wash of the bathroom door there’s the loud sounds of a television. It’s irrelevant what the sounds are in reference to as I count.

In. Out. One by one they escape my nose and mouth like bastard children sprang from passionate moments. One preceding one after another. Each sounds like an inverted rush of wind. Pushing in. Rushing out. There’s no battle but the force can be felt within.

The top of my feet are exposed enough for my toenails to be seen. My eyes pick apart visible red upon pink cracked paint hiding bare simplicity as I reach 35. I think I counted 25 the minute before last after the soapy wetness begins to evaporate into anything but still water.

Up. Down. My chest lifts. Rises to the rhythm of air. A moment longer and I’m counting to 40. Chest tightens quickly. And I’m thinking that somewhere I read that this is not normal before I sink further into the tub to listen.

Head remains partially submerged to the ears.

The distant vibration of the television’s din remains until all sound becomes quiet.

The same warmth of wetness surrounds my bare skin. My eyes look around in the same wonder and feel instead of listen. The cool air upon the red and pink brilliance awakens my skin into electricity. The gooseflesh runs up both legs wrapped inside the velvet blanket.

Beneath the blanket there’s no more numbers. No thoughts of measure. Nameless without their count. Air held tightly in cavities inside. My mind pregnant with thought. Thinking that there are dozens of them waiting to become once again. Released.

Trapped within. A feeling that seems ancestral grows. Without rise or fall it becomes.

In the vacuum of nothing. The feeling slowly becomes noise that is recognized. Familiar like an old memory. The sound of my heart fills the silence. Pounding. A moving rhythm in my ears. The beating of life continues without the movement of breathing. Listening to every beat without count. Needless to be counted. Known to themselves without identity.  Slowly the feeling in my chest lessens as the pulsation of blood begins to slow.

Deep within the white basin lies a feeling more than sound becomes audible without measure.

400. Breathe. Deep. Counted. Slow. There’s nothing like taking it all in occasionally. Ever do that? Lay in the tub and listen. Try it. Even without water. Take it all in. The sounds outside and inside of the room. The house. The streets. Silence and yet it’s not. Even your pulse has a sound. Anyhow… there is something older on the cusp of release. It was to be kept back… for reasons that seem quite foreign to me now. Like the air I breathe… it shall be released. Enjoy. Kisses. m.

The Piano.

The Piano.

Echoing down the corridor I can hear the somber melody that creeps through the air. The dark moodiness of a Brahms concerto builds throughout the empty flat as I make my way towards its melody. The gentle sounds of the pedals fall into the rhythm of the song. This song that awakens and entices me out of bed. The melody moves from softness to loudness quickly as his hands gently slide across the keys. Rhythm lifts and falls with the balance of fingers. From the doorway I can see the master at work upon the ivory keys. I move closer until my bare feet find comfort in the thick rug surrounding the Steinway. Carefully I find my place at his side upon the piano bench as he completes the movement. Before continuing he pauses to turn to me. Placing his hand upon my cheek he leans in for a kiss. Breaking away the moment his eyes remained focused directly into mine. With my eyes I indicate my desire for more.

The opening chords of Rachmaninov’s Vocalise echo into the still room. The sounds send my neck and back into a familiar posture as I nod my head according to the song. With a slight turn of the head I began to whisper encouragement into his ear before gently leaning into his movements. Firmly I place my hands upon his. Him delicately moving as I take a hold of his fingers. Gently flattening and uncurling them to the correct position. Tenderly I allowed my arms to wind around his body.  My linking hands continue to mimic the dance of fingers upon the keys while he played. Softly nurturing his movements with the pressing of my lips against the skin of his neck. With a slight turn of his head he matches my kisses between breathes. As the music progresses down my hands move. Around and under they embrace and desire more from him as I wind myself downward.

Quietly I listen to the melody while doing unforgettable things with my mouth. Seductively I move my hands with the rhythm of the song. My kisses consume him as my hands never stop. Continuing to build and release with the progression of the piece he climbs and resides. His passion never stopping he reaches completion. Satisfied he pulls me up against the Steinway. Grabbing my face he kisses me roughly before beginning another.

400. The Piano. There was always a 400. Hope you like this one. Had wanted to drop this since… for a while. It’s been around since April. It preceded the [Untitled] piano piece. It was inspired by the Michael Nyman score… And the thought that music carries with it the most interesting connections to memories. Its remarkable how music can be used to connect images to memories. I once spent time with a pianist many years ago. I always think of him fondly. Anyhow…This isn’t quite a precursor as to what’s next. That’s altogether a lot of fun. It’s from AWAKE. It’s somewhere I have gone before but not QUITE LIKE THIS. And there’s… honestly there are four things out right now. Getting them out of this head anyway. Enjoy. Kisses. m.

How long do we have?

How long do we have?

“How long do we have?”

“Long Enough.”

“How long is that?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure no one will come through here?”

“Not entirely. They shouldn’t be. But you’re watching out for that right?”

“Right. Are you finished putting that on yet?”

“Are you in a hurry? You won’t enjoy life if you keep rushing things. Besides haven’t you ever heard that perfection can’t be rushed?”

“Perfection? Look. Maybe I can just get someone else to do this for me.”

“Nah. Almost... Ready. There.”

“Oh. Is that…”

“Worth the wait, huh?”

“Uh…”

“What’s wrong?”

“How… Eh? What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Nothing. But I can’t do this by myself. Put your hand right there and I can do the rest of the work.  Ah... but keep watching. And try to relax. “

“Ok . But this is uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable? Let loose a little. How can you expect to enjoy anything if you are so uptight?”

“I don’t know. You should just… Nevermind. Keep going.”

“Is there actually anything about this you want to do?”

“Yeah. It was my idea. Don’t you remember?”

“Then keep your hand there. In fact give me the other one too. I need it… Right there. Go on. Get in there. HEY! Pay attention.”

“Uh-huh. But this is…”

“Dirty. Is that what it is? You have to get your hands dirty to enjoy life sometimes.”

“It’s not that. I don’t know about this anymore.”

“Stop complaining. It’s too late to change your mind. Now move your hands a little closer in. Right up next to the… That’s the spot. Slowly ‘em let out a little. Slower.”

“Alright. Can you move to the left then? That pinches.”

“Better?”

“A little. How long is this going to take?”

“Bored already? You can’t enjoy anything can you? Don’t worry. I’m almost done.”

“That looks like…”

“Uh-huh. Close.”

“Are you…?”

“Finished. Yeah. How’s that for you?”

“Alright, I guess.”

“You guess? Did you…?”

“Look… yeah. Whatever. It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I can do it again.”

“It’s alright. You don’t… we don’t need to again.”

“Of course we don’t have to… but there’s time and no one is around.”

“I don’t think that it’s necessary. It’s good… like this.”

“Good?  Did you even have fun?”

“Yeah. Of course I did. Thanks.”

“Not a problem. Well then what do you think?”

“The sign looks really great.”

400. Not everything is what you think it is. Been a little off the map for a couple, but still around. Busy is best. Being not at your best isn’t always busy but it will take up your time nonetheless. Especially when you forget about the time and its measure of health. enjoy. kisses. m.

the pulling.

the pulling.

The pulling. Metal bracing against my face. Tiny hammers beating out from the inside of ivory. Sensations of familiar rather than pain.

Clik. Clik. Clik.

The upper level of my jaw clicking forward.

Movement jerks slowly remind me of a memory. A feeling of familiar enters my mind. A feeling of being able to remove my teeth that’s never happened. Only it feels true.  Never introduced but old company to my mind. Thoughts of pulling machines and pushing fingers leap to the front of my mind as I witness the destruction.

It’s the same dream.

Always the same dream. Until I realize that it’s not a dream.

Pressure against the back of my teeth. As the lower jaw remains firm, the upper shifts in the constant tug of war. A war that must wage on at all costs to extricate them. A feeling that must be true because it’s always happened.

Pushing.

Pulling.

Bracing.

Jerking.

Pain?

The distant echo of laughter fills the air capsizing and surfacing between the drifting madness of my mind. Unable to fully make clear of this predicament I watch the working hands of madness sink into and out of my mouth attempting to remove a plague. One by one they fall inward with purpose.

Clik. Clik. Clik.

Tighter the brace grinds into my jaw.  The deep laughter grows louder. A rising din creeps as though it was from within a deepness reaching out into the air. Outward come the darkened pieces of flesh attached to tiny white rooted trees.

Upside down.

Inside out.

The top line of white keys slide out with the ease of wheels turning. Incisors removed from their natural home. Replaceable pieces of gold and silver line these banished pieces. Teeth firmly secured together by metal bracing are now free as my small hands continue to take care of business.

Pushing.

Pulling.

Releasing.

Freedom.

Slippery gives way to movement. There’s no more pressure as the final pieces of jaw break by touch. Biting down empty to the taste of metal mixed with blood. Missing pieces remain as tiny fingers reach in and extract the pointed tools. One by one they quickly react to pull the remains of white with delicacy and precision until hollows remain seeking the ivory that once inhabited.

Laughter fills the broken down barriers of my jaw. A sense of freedom obtained from liberating the small white daggers within.

400. Pulling Teeth. Dentists. Ever hear about someone playing dentist on their own mouth? I have. And… Once had the revelation that I could take out part of myself as well. Ever think that? As though something was removable when in fact it was not. Anyhow, this is light darkness. Just a lil skewing of the lines ending up with a bit of gruesome mixed in. Have a good night. Enjoy. Kisses. m.