LWA - Literary Writers Association Forum Feature Writing of the Month F..

She served him kisses with a hint of tears from the platters of her belly and breast. Starving and lonely he ate them whole, until he grew dizzy, intoxicated by her essence. He thought he could handle her, shedding her pounce and uncertain circumstance but  her moments were always colored in hues of a tempest. Her blue eyes dripping with disaster, she was a beautiful mess and he was hooked. He craved her like a drug and she would quench him with pools of liquid fire. Decorating the rooms of his heart with her drama and dysfunction, she would draw pictures of poppies and then lull him to sleep in the midst of her imaginary fields. He had never felt so nervous..so frantic...sometimes pissed but oh.. so alive. He would steal peeks at her while she lay sleeping. the moonlight spilling shards of sparkling glass upon her naked body. It was the only time she was not consuming him with the force of a storm...the only time when she was vulnerable without her masks of chaos and confusion He would always let her believe that she held him in this place...but it was a twisted truth because for all her saucy brocade she clung to him like a lost child. Sometimes she played beneath a sorrow tree in that "in between" space. She felt him looking at her there, once, but she would never bring herself to meet his eyes because then it would be real...and real was a very dangerous game to play. He was kind enough to let her believe that she was the clever one...he let her draw her pictures and run barefoot through her imaginary fields...let her hold his heart for just a moment between her teeth and tongue. But in the still night under a heavy blanket of silence and truth as she  wrapped her sleeping body around him  he could feel her heart beating  strong and deliberate against his back...Her beating heart had betrayed her. And in the morning when he gave her the key to her freedom he kindly pretended not to notice as she swallowed it down.