30 Jan 2008

Snapshots of perfection

My own version of love, written ages ago...

* * * * *

We are walking across the cobblestones towards our favourite place in town. We are going for a taste of luxury, the day after payday, just like so many others. Quickly and with easy I place my heels in the right spots, even though I know I have your support if I would stumble. I want you. Now. I stop and pull you towards me.

Time is standing still.

Eye to eye on a square filled with people. Nothing is happening. Not that others can see at least. The wind has ruffled my hair, it is flying in all directions. A lock has found its way to my face. Partly it covers my right eye. A thin veil before my vision. It does not matter, the rest of the world disappeared on its own. I don't have to see it.

We are holding hands.

A couple in love, lost in each other, just like so many others this spring. You let go of my left hand and put the lost lock behind my ear. You touch my chin slightly in passing. Without saying a word, without letting go of my gaze. You smile and grab my hand once again.

I hurt you.

My nails find their way into your hand, into the soft tissue between your fingers. I know it is painful, hurts so much. I can feel my nails protruding your skin. I let go a bit, and then stab you again. I know it hurts more then. I want it to hurt. A lot.

You are smiling through the pain

You know why I hurt you. You see me as the one I am. You give me everything you have, your body and your heart. Perhaps even your soul. You don't like pain, not a lot of people do, but you love the pleasure I get from it. You see it as a test of your love for me, and maybe that is just what it is.

The blood trickles.

Your skin breaks. You never stop smiling, and your eyes never let go of mine. I meet your smile with my own. I lean forward and kiss you, my love. My toy and property. We are each others everything.

We are walking down the street.

One hand in the pocket, the other one is holding on to yours. Our heads are held high. Proudly we move among the ordinary, the normal ones. What is really normal? Our intertwined fingers are slowly turning red from the magic we just experienced. We are living life to the fullest. We have the courage to. We are on our way to get a cup of coffee.

An ordinary day for the unusual.


3 comments:

ThiefOfHearts said...

This is beautiful LadyM. Simple yet highly poetic. I love the imagery within.

secondfiddle said...

Lady M's imagination is so subtle and beautiful. lady M should author a book, me feels :)

dark-Fantasies said...

Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girlchild in the dark
Comes in bells, your servant, dont forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart
Downy sins of streetlight fancies
Chase the costumes she shall wear
Ermine furs adorn the imperious
Severin, Severin awaits you there
I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears
Kiss the boot of shiny, shiny leather
Shiny leather in the dark
Tongue of thongs, the belt that does await you
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart
Severin, Severin, speak so slightly
Severin, down on your bended knee
Taste the whip, in love not given lightly
Taste the whip, now plead for me
I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears
Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girlchild in the dark
Severin, your servant comes in bells, please dont forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart