lunes, 30 de enero de 2017

A chuisle mo chroí

And now the heart beats. It beats fast, a quick, unsteady rythm against the wall. Cheek pressed against the cold tiles, the metallic scent of blood, velvet against my tongue. The feel of your skin on my throat, the danger of your teeth so close, so close.

The heart beats, stuttering, drenching me. It's building up, growing, like a living thing between us. Silent pleas, hushed whispers, summer's gone but it's scorching in here. My body hums and vibrates, the danger of cold metal against my skin, so close, so close.

Desire trickles down my legs, you lick it off me, I'm insane with need. Inside it's burning me, branding me, this thing between us that never seems to cease. Three years on the making, this picture that you paint on me, in red, black and blue, beautiful flowers blooming where your fingers grab my hips. Bruising me oh, so good.

And my heart beats.

miércoles, 4 de enero de 2017


Blood. So much blood. On the floors, on the clothes, on her face, everywhere. I would have died to protect her, but Christmas was gone and I had no more wishes left. I tried to stop it, but there was nothing to do but say goodbye, kiss her furry face and ease her pain. One minute, and then the next she wasn't there anymore.

It sure is funny how time flies, how it has already been a week and a half of a world where she no longer greets me when I arrive, how it has been such a long week, and yet I can't believe so much time has passed. In a way, it felt like time should have stopped with her. And I can't count how many times I've yearned for her, cried her absence. How angry I am, because she deserved better than to go that way. How I wish I could turn back time and make things better, if only to ease her way out.

I have found that time doesn't heal, just dulls, that love is priceless, that memory is where the soul lives. That the only way to ease the nightmares is to recall the good times, moments of sunshine and rivers and laughter forever ours. That day she chased ducks, the day we found the six-leaved clover, the first time I set my eyes on her brown ones, her silky fur under my fingers, her happy yips when I got home from a trip. Her loyalty, her undying love.

So here's to my precious girl, so that her memory never fades, even when my brain can no longer recall her.

I'll catch you on the flipside.