43 lines
2.4 KiB
Plaintext
43 lines
2.4 KiB
Plaintext
Archive-name: Bestial/serpentn.txt
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Archive-author:
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Archive-title: Serpentine
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My beloved goes where he wills and takes what he wants. I can
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move him from his path, haul him sometimes. He registers his
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displeasure, pitting his strength against mine. Ultimately he knows
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that I can draw him into the light and he allows this though he will
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return to cozy blackness when tired of my warmth. Once I tried to
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entice him when he was undecided, tried to make up his mind for him
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about his desires. He is not one to be urged to speed, reminding me
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with scars that lingered seven days. Yet, he took what I offered,
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once I allowed him his own time. He snatched, and held with an
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implacable grip as he does to whatever great or small takes his fancy,
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awakens his hunger.
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He holds me sometimes in that grip. His scent is musky, clean.
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It surrounds me as he does. While his hold on me is secure I cannot
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disrupt his motions. He seeks the dark places with his questing touch
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sliding light over my skin. There he hides, reveling in my heat,
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resting his weight. He absorbs my power, now able to brave the light,
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ingesting the visible of me with his wide-angle eyes that never need
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blink. Strong, radiant, his coiled grasp loosens, slides, and
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tightens; light, tasting taps of his tongue determining his next
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movements upon me.
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He cannot care if his actions please me. I can never know if I
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am pleasing to him. What cares he if the lightest bifurcated flick
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upon my inner ear can shiver me almost to unconsciousness? Watching
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him, I can only know the hissing of his anger, the stalk and strike of
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his hunt and kill. His indolent ways veil all other emotion. Does he
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feel bliss, ennui, distaste at my touch? His face is always the same.
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It is a stunning face, especially in the dim sunset light
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reflecting glitter from the black, strokable scales. I watch it
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often through the glass walls of his cage, and I call it mine. Does
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he know what freedom is? Am I his lover, his servant, or his jailer?
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I can remove him from his cage, take him in my hands or let his coils
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loop about my neck. I could set him free in the grass to let him find
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his own life, but either my greed or my love prevents it. I can make
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myself believe I have defeated the walls of the cage, feeling the play
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of the muscles driving the tension of his slither on my bare skin.
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Against the true chasm separating us, I cannot prevail.
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--
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