#ritualis

Taking her in his embrace, (he) sings: Amor meus continuus, Tibi languor assiduus.

We played romance like a remembered ritual.

She carved a bloody half moon on his throat.

It was as if she had been dissolved, I absorbed her through every pore. And from time to time I would run my hand through her hair. I was the comb that magnetized her long hair. I was the bodice that moulded her waist. The flimsy tulle of her sleeves. The dress that moved over her legs. I was the little stocking of silk. […] I possessed her wholly and from every side, like a wave.

You singe my heavy dreams. I will hold you in my mouth like salt, a talisman against the odds of one dusky night throwing all her stars.

Tell me what chants to sing, what prayers to carve in stone to heal us both?

Your wish? To touch the light under my skin? To kiss […] nude darkness?

I extinguished the smoky lamp, brought a pair of candles, lighted them and set them above her head. In the flickering candle-light, her face was still more tranquil than before; in the half-dark of the room, it wore an expression of mystery and immateriality.