Lilac Wine :: a warzone towards haiku

January 21, 2011


Filed under: Text — Tags: , , — Lilac @ 2:16 pm

There’s a photograph of you, forearms bound in a double column of hemp. It’s my first tie. The sunlight streams onto your hands, illuminating the fingertips soft white. Your wedding ring gleams with a diamond of sun.

There’s an image of us in the fractured mirror. Licking my come from your wedding ring will fuck with my head forever…

There’s a photograph of you, receiving her at the base of the stairs. She is on the lowest step, navel exposed in a casual shirt. You’re wearing a kilt. It’s summer.

There’s a photograph of you kissing her in the kitchen. It’s late afternoon. You’re almost silhouettes, grey; I can see the outline of your tongue, her hair, your shirt-pockets.

Leather, you said, and rope. But rings of metal are the everyday fetish object, a commonplace sick-puppy perversity of ownership and oath. They’re a fantasy of bondage. And it’s the sickest fantasy I have: sicker than drinking your piss, being beaten bloody, being pierced by five hundred feathered needles.

Love is the best edgeplay there is.


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