January 19th, Year of the Moon

Place your faith on the blind. They are led by intuition, never distracted by bright objects. They hear each chord being struck, with absolute clarity. Only sounds can tame the savage.

My feet can stomp and shake the ground, but they cannot loosen this small love. There is no time to think, no time to act. Let me take my freedom to safe heights. But my lover will not let me run. He covers me with kisses. I feel his eyelashes brushing my face.

And, The Corpse says, “You do not have who you really want. Where is Matthew?”

Oh, how words can cut through flesh.

I have existed as an echo with Cory at my side, for three days. The two of us, in a house empty of furniture, making love like hungry vampires. His face, warm against my breasts. My teeth, biting into his well-toned arms. His masculine roughness, my feminine flexibility.

This darkness does not let me see, does not let me feel.

January 19th, Year of the Moon

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