My Silent Revelry

I totally snorted.

Dead.

A vacation house by the river sounds amazing. 

After the Storm The rain had fallen for hours in endless drowning sheets. Weather as a metaphor for the deluge of a broken heart. Words can speak harshly. Reminders of uncomfortable realities and unavoidable obstacles. Yet still his hand was there in hers as a truth that nothing could shake. As much as he might try to deny, her breath was his to command. It would always be so. So they walked to the house with bits of rain still clinging to their clothes. Sadness and resignation like a blanket of wet to soothe as much as chasten. There to peel each layer away. The cloying damp ripped off by warmth and feeling. A depth of closeness more than any storm could ever conquer. A hungry mouth on a hardened nipple and a cry of joy. Passion and terror joined in deepest mystery. Wet skin and wetter bodies seared in an instant by the only heat that matters. Scratch at my heart and help it live. Rape my soul and take its very essence as your own. Take breath with every thrust, my throat a fitting home made just for this. Pulse inside and mark me as your lowest and your highest all at once. Scrape across my skin with whip and open hand. Teach me greatest sweetness in the hardest discipline. Only as your whore can I be whole. Only at that height may you be too. The rain that steals at will can wash us clean. Storms with silent thunder bring us wealth. And so it was that day. Each bead of water breaking like a tide upon their shore. Darkest night transformed to brilliant light. Love does bring its mystery. Unbidden in its horror. Brutal in its wisdom. There most free.

Oh the rope burns….

Good girl.