She returns here whenever she can steal away to this place.
To slip between the sheets of darkness as they fall upon the earth.
She runs as to a lover waiting, yet quick and precise to avoid recognition.
Breathing.
Sharp quick breaths of thrill and suspense.
Anticipating heart pounding, body aching, intimate moments that reside nowhere in her life, but in books.
Instincts prevail as the limb reaches out and snags her hair.
Pulls her up and holds her suspended for an everlasting moment.
Wild eyed, and dripping with sweat from the chase with time, to beat the odds
that this time she might make it.
Arms flailing, hands grasping, to rip free from the grip of this custodian of virtue,
as it lifts her up, legs still kicking.
Anger and fear become one.
Through her tears she sees clearly again.
Fate holds fast to it's intention, and sails her in torturous pleasure over the edge,
to lay for one brief moment alive with love.
Just long enough to taste the salt upon her lips, and the cool of rocks against her cheek.
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Comments: 18
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Love the poem that went with it, too. Well done, my friend!
I actually drew the pic, many many years ago..
when Iwrote this adn as I was editing..I thought OMG I have the pic of this...