He circled me with rugged arms. His palms pulsating up my spine, then restless at my rump.
My ear he tasted, My neck he sipped. With his teeth he pulled away wisp of hair from blocking my gaze.
The creases of my eye, he licked. My cheek he tugged. The tip of my nose he pecked. Down his tongue withered, aiming for his final destination….”Hey!” I stammered, while turning my head away.. “I told you, I don’t kiss.”
“Awe, sweetheart…I’m not gon’ bite cha” reaching for my bottom lip. “No.” I ordered. “I already told you, I don’t kiss.”
“Why not?” pleading..”We been together for quite some time now, don’t you trust me?”
Tenderly, I placed my hands at his jaw, and locked eyes.. “Yes. babe. I trust you.” I know that you would never do anything to hurt me” …ending with…. “Your the sweetest guy I know”..
“Well, alright then, why won’t you kiss me?” he huffed.
Holding in and holding myself down…. I responded “I do kiss you. YOU just can’t kiss ME; here” (pointing to my lips).. “No big deal..really”..
Trying to make light of the situation, I playfully shove him away…
Suddenly, with his might; he forcefully grabbed me by my wrist. With one arm, he tucked the back of my head into the inside of his elbow, and the other; he held my hands… Deeper he pressed, pressing his lips into mine..Firmly clinched, I remained. Hoping and praying that he would give up. He pressed and pressed, mumbling… “Open up, open up” (between teeth and tongue)
Gradually, I rose…I climbed…I ascended…
with a rumble from my abdomen, and pinch from my navel, I spun through my liver, spiraled pass my heart, I fluffed my lungs and up my esophagus, I bustled. Rushing from my throat, I pushed… I pushed.. I stomped the roof of my mouth and punched my teeth…painfully I released. I burst, I poured and exploded from my lips into his. I desecrated his orifice, trampled along his tongue, raced down his throat, cracked his lungs, and obliterated his heart..
With a pinkie finger nudge, he toppled flat on his back…
Shameless I glared down at him. From side to side my head shook; “Tis. Tis.”
I grabbed him with both hands. By his right wrist I yanked him out the door. On every downward step, his body bled. He bled on the sidewalk, the graveled driveway and wet grass.
At the curb, I left him.
I dusted my knees and wrung my hands. A swoosh of mop water hit the pavement, clear drops dangled from the porch. I swept and sprinkled sea-salt that blew in the night air.
Inside I retreated, and scented the air with Patchouli perfume.
I plopped on the sofa, reared back, and put my feet up on the table, only to discover the only memory, left behind,…. a tinged bleach spot on the hardwood floor.
.
Mantra 