The bubbles crackle like the fresh falling snow
on the fire burning out of control just across the road and
this she replayed in her mind as she watched the fire dance
sparkle with the shadows on the ceiling of the bathroom

oh the sensation of flying, so sure she is flying
the sensation of pleasure so intense that she bites her hand
he’s gone but his hand is her own as he fucks herself
she writhes against it in abandon shouting his name

no shame
– no nothing but the need fulfilled then she cries in silence
at the storm inside because she knows it’s only her mind
and not his hand not him, it can’t be ever again. he’s gone

he’d left her
abandoned in a new definition
she is alone and for always

but she swears she can smell his cologne on her pillow
feel his hands on her hips
lips on her lips
hips
tongue

it feels like him and she can’t help but moan in protest
he’s dead she still wears his blood on her hands and her face
he promised she grinds alone in her mind she stutters
paces in places well-worn in her padded visceral cell

but his tongue in her, cobwebs and cunnydust
and his fingers scrabbling like creatures
full and gushing eyes shut tight riding the waves

denial
desire
vernal
carnal

then a new a fullness, a new warmth, a tsunami
but he’s gone and sunk deep in pieces where I left him
while her body dies over and over
she sighs over and over

axe then chainsaw
I cut him
it’s he
him

She smells his blood
sex, earth and hell

oh my god
what the –
no
get off
get out
it hurts

it hurts but delicious
his movements are vicious and he’s dead but inside of her

the swell and the ocean
his groans
animals feasting

she remembers the reason she feels him so close
then she laughs out loud with release

I ate him

Girl 2

© MelanieMcCurdie2016

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