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Aching awareness
stung across my skittering heart.
Sneaking blackness surrounds,
wrapping me in a dark, hungry cloak.
I saw that look.
Slashing across the spinning
room,
it captured my lover's face.
Touching,
Seeking,
Planning.
Fear drifted down my
spine,
playing it's awful tune.
That LOOK was returned.
Knowledge was there,
waiting to break over the crashing surface.
Fighting,
Clawing,
Pushing away,
the inevitable moment
my gaze would fall upon him.
NO!
It burst outward,
Flinging,
Beating,
Raging,
through my wildly jerking
veins.
A tiny animal sound,
pushed past my lips,
almost lost in the clinging laughter of unsuspecting people.
That awful grunt snapped
his head,
(did that really come from me?),
locking on the truth blazing in my eyes.
Oh, God.
It was there, not really
bothering to hide,
Ripping,
Tearing,
Shredding,
something so fragile,
it blew away in a heartbeat's breath.
It was over.
I would not,
I could not,
place bloated sweat nothings,
like dead ashes on my tongue again.
I would not,
I could not,
turn pulsing, heavy pain,
to shinning, blinding trust.
No more would he poses,
my sweet laughing self.
No more would he have
my utter sensuality.
No more would he see,
my eyes joyful in the balmy night.
It was Over
©1998, Christie
Benson
Writings
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