Mors Pudoris
Her eyes searched mine, looking for what she would not see.
I could not pull away from her, but she was not holding me.
I wanted her, all of her, but I knew I never could. I knew I never would...
We both knew how this would end, but she never ran away.
She was always there, right there, waiting for me to snatch her up again.
I would not.
Her breathing grew deeper; I knew what she desired before I knew I wanted it too.
She reached for me...her touch was like water on lava; the smoke filled my eyes.
I watched as the scars, the bruises, the planes of pain on my skin crumbled and melted beneath her sweet hands.
I could. Oh, just maybe, I could.
I put my finger on her arm. What a quaint-looking gesture.
But I knew what was there: Fire.
The fire of immorality, burning through the snowy forest.
The deer and nymphs of her soul flee as my fire fights so hard, so hard, to be like them.
No, fire, I whisper. You're destructive. Cruel. Uncontrollable. Wild.
You may be capable of creating beauty and strength, but never will you be.
Through my tears I saw her downward turning lips, and I bit them.
The floodgates burst!
My heart pounded as visions of hate and love flew across my mind.
I pressed her against me, as if I would fall into her.
My soul pulled and pushed through the lies, desperate to grab the truth it always saw.
I laced my fingers within her cascading hair,
praying it would wash over my body of wickedness.
And then there was gray.
How sorrowful and cool it was, how gray!
How long could I stay?
But I already felt it slipping away..
Stronger now, I kept kissing her, as if I might devour her.
And then I was devouring her.
I could not here my own pleas underneath her cries.
The black crept over my hope.
Even as I returned to my peaceable state,
the burns of our passionate embrace remained.
I wept silently, not because she was gone, but because I knew she would be back.
Oh, the murder of purity.