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By Anna_Panic Date: 2001 Jun 16 Comment on this Work [[2001.06.16.06.08.7029]] |
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You lie in darkness. Your eyes - they are blue, aren't they? - open, moving across the ceiling, catching the sickly light that filters in through your window. Which world is it that exists outside those windows? A street- the hills- the sea? This is your world, and it is hers, but not mine. Your chest lifts and lowers as you breathe those little almost inconceivable breaths. The air you suck in tastes bitter in your mouth. Your skin still glazed with sweat, sticky against the crimson sheet, velvet and satin. I must imagine what it is like, this body - your body. The line of your ankles, like a polished riverstone. The colour of your skin, its shades, the way your knuckles turn white when you clench your fists. The colour of your hair, clinging damp against your forehead. The shape of your breasts. Are you much like me, I wonder? Or are we different, both reflections, different images cast by one ray of light broken on a mirror - the mirror is she. Her hands on my skin, the trail of her fingers as the travel the length of my body, as they have travelled yours. The other side of the bed is cold, she left hours ago. In her unaffected way, she pulled her hair up from under her coat and carefully painted her lips red before she left. You tried to hold on to her, I am sure, your hands clasping her body as they had already done tonight - as mine have done so many times. Now you are thinking of me. And of her. Of me and her as one, as us. You ask yourself whether she holds me the same way she holds you, whether her skin tastes the same to me. And maybe, what my body looks like. You cannot help comparing yourself to me, the unknown factor in the equation, my ankles more seagull's wings than riverstones. My skin, its shades, the hints of summer sun it still carries in mid-winter. My eyes, my hair, the shape of my breasts. The other side of your bed is cold as you lie alone with the feel of your body and the sound of your breath. She is with me now. She brought you with her, your smell on her skin, your taste on her lips, and suddenly I feel so close to you, and it is your neck that shivers beneath my lips, and it is your fingers are entwined with mine. And still, you lie motionless, enveloped in the absence of light, your body broken with guilt and wanting and bent with thought and loss, the small death that we both died at her hands between us - you and me, me and her, her and you. In the end, there is you, alone, naked in the dark, against the sheets and the walls of the home you have created for yourself and the reality that is yours and yours alone. You - like a goddess, violated. |