by Tracie Whitaker

Oh baby, come and let me lay my head upon your chest,
listen to the breathing sounds of a woman's life long suffering
while you croon your favorite Maxwell tune and
tell me sweet lies that speak of nothing further from the truth
and my eyes well with sweet tears of disbelief and
I yearn for you to fill my ears with bullshit that
sounds like honey and nectar to a starving woman
and contains less substance than whipped cream as
I melt in the deluge of words that keep me coming back
for more idiotic metaphors designed to tease the mind
and contort the truth until even God does not recognize it.

A love absent any emotion and devoid of warmth while your heart
beats the rhythm of blood coursing through your veins and cursing
the woman lying loving upon your chest wanting you to burn
with the fire of love instead of the calculating coldness of a dead
walking woman draining the living life blood from all who love her
turning each woman into a vacant vessel with the steel coldness
of your eyes piercing the heart and drawing the ever forgiving blood
shed in love for a ravenous blood letting that starts with the
luscious and delicious kiss and suckling of the tenderness
of your tongue caressing my lips like ripe pieces of mangos
sweltering in the hot August sun, sweet, ripe, juicy.

Fully fragrant in the scorching heat of passion bursting from
the fruit of my womaness...desirous of being devoured and my flesh
being pulled away from my flesh as the carnivorous nature of
your kissing begins to bruise the soft and delicate fruit beneath
your lips and your tongue forces it way inside my mouth searching
as though lead by your steely and piercing eyes to find the most
vulnerable and fragile point of entry within me to touch and press
and pull while your lips slowly, pulsingly nibble, taste, bite and
truly draw my blood and then consume my lips until I know
that my lips and face have become part of your being as you snarl
a lightening flash of darkness that tells me I will be fully eaten.

I am without the satisfaction of knowing that I have in some way
satisfied your need for consumption and yet, I am completely drunk up
and suckled until there is nothing left but the pulp of my lips all while
you are kneading my breast as though you believe that the delicious
pieces of fruit you devoured and called my lips were really little slivers
of the firmer fruit beneath your hands, laying heavy and round upon your chest,
my womaness like radiant dew laden and over ripened mangoes
and as the aroma of our own fermenting fruit begins to fill the room
you smile to yourself as you pull back my head to drink the last drop
of my luscious lips and the love that bore nectar to your tongue and
fed your hungry and depraved spirit like manna from heaven.

Your hands knead my breasts, imploringly, searching and craving the
fullness of a woman's breast as only another woman can, in spite of
her own mental discomfort brought on by the recognition of her yearning
for women and forgotten in experience, as you move away from what
has become of my lips and brush your nose along my chin, down my neck
breathing in my rising body heat as you breath hot labored breath, caught up
in the fierce blazing coals of your own vacant eyes while the pounding of blood
in your ears is muffled by our sighs as you tremble from within your own
anticipation while tasting the perspiration that had begun to mist upon
my breast, all while your own nipples harden responsively when your grip
upon my breasts becomes insultingly lacking of love.

You anxiously begin to melt into your own desire, fueled by
your own need to be satisfied beyond the flesh and to capture me,
to infuse my being with your being, holding me under your spell,
and you rip away my blouse and think nothing of destroying my
silky undergarment as you are overcome with your own passion,
lavishly loving my belly as my insides begin to flow like hot
molten lava forcing you to moan deeply out of the hollowed place
in your spirit, and your eyes close as you sink inside of yourself
to a place where your spirit is unbridled, as your hands move down
my fleshy belly and along my thighs, I feel your torturous spirit and
the strength you have harnessed from the demons within you force me open.

As you groan, an agonizing groan of anguish deep within, my heart
quickens, as my fingers touch your breast and your eyes flash open,
black as night, empty and cold, while the heat of our passion rises
between us, our skin dripping and glistening, comes together slapping
and sliding until our breasts are sucking against the darkness; a
partial smile curls upon your lips as you cut through to my soul,
parting the lava now careening in the cavern of my womb where I
seek retreat, but you have me, now in your grip, in your eyes, your hands
have taken possession of me, your thoughts now intoxicated with your own
decadent delight and my struggle is now in vain, your legs have locked me
beneath your strength, pressing and mocking me.

You engulf me, piercing me with each stroke, I know that the you that I see
is beyond the flesh; you are transformed in the spirit, darkness overcoming
me, consuming me as your eyes are locked into mine, with a mocking smile
upon your lips, your head turned ever so slightly as you approve of yourself
knowing that you indeed captured me, where I am lost if I do not retreat,
and I am losing myself inside your spirit, choking me as I slip off your robe,
your hands move the rest of my clothes aside and plunge into me seeking
salvation not satisfaction, you moan and shake me, not gently, violently
unleashing your spirit, grunting as you rise up and crash down upon me;
and the muscles in your arms ripple as you take me down, down, whirling
down, plummeting into my haven..racking my temple and my soul.

We become one completely as your hands, your fingers, your lips,
your tongue, instruments of your spirit move in and out of me,
taking my thoughts, drinking me as I drink you; sweating, dripping,
molding, rocking me all while you groan that groan, raising the hairs
on my neck and I cannot move away, I am breathing your every breath,
running in your river, trembling in the tempest from your core, my spirit
melting, pouring through our hands, through our legs, through
our steam as the heat and the flames engulf us, I see your face melting
behind the black eyes now disemboweling my soul, the face I love
emptying my heart, moaning as you begin to rock yourself and rock me into
a frightening mounting place where there is no me, there is no you.

We are no longer flesh and our flesh has become one in the spirit,
I feel my flesh on fire, burning and electrified, my mind now whirling
with sounds and colors and textures, and I hear you moaning my own
wailing moan, in the deepest place left in my soul, so deep, so low, so
primitive and guttural, it is resonating in the room like a melancholy chord;
and it is the striking discord of the sound, in everything, and I remember
the discord always as our orgasms explode, resonating that discord
through every cell of my body, in every fiber of our clothing, in our
pounding hearts, in my mind as it shuts down and I close my eyes
as I melt into the chord, and glimpsing your eyes, still piercing my
soul and you slip right down that resonating chord into my soul.

Copyright © 1999. Used by permission of author. All Rights Reserved.





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