chiaroscuro

to be hurt, to be held to be caressed, to be cursed to be kissed, to be bit to be loved, to be desired to smile, to grin to whisper, to hiss to touch, to scratch to be sweetened, to be warmed to sink, to rise to tread softly, to be tread on to be stroked and soothed, to be struck and torn to hear his voice, to hear her voice to see their eyes in the dark to be gripped, to grip to fall, to be swallowed to plunge, to crest to fall into an endless pit or to ascend the brightest star.

her arms drew forth the curtain, ivory skin against silken drapes the fragrance of her laugh drifted from inside, all i see is candlelight heels clacked against marbled floors, a thin whisper of smoke the knotted hems, the plunging chains of gold, all melted like graves i followed, confused, intrigued, entranced; her statuette leaned over to embrace me   a thin rapier hung from the wall. his portrait, forbidding, fearsome, glowered at me the fireplace cracked, the broken wood screamed, all was unsettling the silken ropes twined about my neck and wrists and ankles hummed like saints the blackened lace underneath my blunted fingernails scratched and then i sank into the carpet, swirled, dizzied, blinded by the splashes of ringing laughter   i never did wake, i do not think for even now her fingers, delicate bone, cinch around my jaw stroking, prodding, caressing, grounding the whisper of her necklace trails between my breasts as she leans in, purring I clutch the coverlets, powerless, as