||[Jan. 11th, 2006|09:45 pm]
And then, the hush after the rush. Pushing and pounding and his head expounding in the pungent retch of the lack of understanding. His lips are chapped as resignation leaks from his pores and patter obscenely at the curling floor. Once more his fingers entwine in his black mat of hair, gnarling in the snarls of unwashed appendages. A sigh escapes and he slouches forward allowing the seductive end to kiss his encrusted eyes. Skin sags, and simply he dies.|
Before or after, he never knew. Never the present, but sometime before or after. Perhaps in the after, with the certainty of coming sooner or later. More likely the before, as what has happened has already been done. The present is always excluded, for the present is always predicted with assurance.
She had sat at his side, jumbles of hair rushing over sloping shoulders that bent forward as if inclined to a fetal position. Eyes of pearls sat in heavy lidded eyes as she stared resolutely downward, casting a line down at the infinity below her feet. Stories upon stories of decaying walls ran underneath her, tumbling and cascading of rotted history. Her lips curled into a feeble smile, nails permanently engrained into grayed bricks that merged into the skies forcing the heavens to fall to the earth. He stared at those knotted hands, those scratching nails, scratching and tearing, urging the drain of blood hesitantly forward.
"He never came, you know."
He was silent, listening to the scritch and the scratch and the unknown sound of slow crimson.
"He will never come. You knew. You know."
He only nodded, closing his eyes against the harsh wind that blew against the lanky building that rested like a giant in the wastelands. He felt her hair flit against his cheek, long strands encumbering into his own and entwining around his neck ensnaring. She laughed, breathy laughter falling into the wind and being swept into the dead dust that rose up behind them. A solitaire tear that dripped from her lashes he never saw. Rather, he felt it land upon his chapped lips, and then he felt her tongue gently apply moisture unto his chard mouth, sealing her pungent sadness forevermore into the cavern of his soul.
And then she fell. White fabric drifting upward, urging her to take flight into the heavens that merged into earth. Her bony hands were folded against her chest, long fingers twirling around each other in prayer. Fluttering opaque hair twirling behind her like a faint trail of what she forsake for the hell below. Gently, softly, eternally she fell beyond the heavens and the earth.
He stood there, wind rasping against his cheek, her emotions locked and left for him to devour between his lips.
His head rested against his harsh skin and the grain of wood. His cracked and bleeding lips pressed firmly together as death rocked him into slumber. Falling and tumbling, his lips forever licked, forevermore, by her.