The first time you kissed me, it was frantic. You flew across the car and grabbed my face with your hands, twisted me toward you, and your mouth was on mine, hot and wet, and all over. I swerved slightly, caught off guard, and righted myself and my vehicle while something inside me dropped away, and something inside me exploded. I couldn't close my eyes for the fact of driving, and it was like everything sparkled: the green and red slick-shine shatters of light reflecting off the wet streets of Oak Park; the humid summer air. Gasping for breath, I broke back, dull halogen orange pulsing off the street lamps into my eyes.
"I'm fucking driving here!" The light turned red. "But now I'm not." We flew across the seats and locked fingers and lips and horns like charging rams.
Radiohead split the speakers and my head in the closing strains of "Let Down," where the sound twinkles like pixie dust in movies, but closer listening reveals millions of layered digital pings. Fairy dust as fractured digitalia. Fractured fairy dust for fucked up fairy tales, as the wolf crept in, desperate and hungry.
You kissed me like a caged animal, something feral and ferocious. You were hoping I could save you. You never kissed me like that again, and in the months ensuing I kissed you like an animal, wanting to consume you, wanting to claw back into that fairy tale moment, hide inside your belly and shift inside your skin. I wanted to try you on, because something about the beast made me feel more alive. Suddenly I was all nails on skin and wet streamers of damp hair, teeth and claws and roars. Oh my. You gave up after that initial animal kiss, and I became predatory. I kissed you like an animal, and you kissed me like a cage.
"I'm fucking driving here!" The light turned red. "But now I'm not." We flew across the seats and locked fingers and lips and horns like charging rams.
Radiohead split the speakers and my head in the closing strains of "Let Down," where the sound twinkles like pixie dust in movies, but closer listening reveals millions of layered digital pings. Fairy dust as fractured digitalia. Fractured fairy dust for fucked up fairy tales, as the wolf crept in, desperate and hungry.
You kissed me like a caged animal, something feral and ferocious. You were hoping I could save you. You never kissed me like that again, and in the months ensuing I kissed you like an animal, wanting to consume you, wanting to claw back into that fairy tale moment, hide inside your belly and shift inside your skin. I wanted to try you on, because something about the beast made me feel more alive. Suddenly I was all nails on skin and wet streamers of damp hair, teeth and claws and roars. Oh my. You gave up after that initial animal kiss, and I became predatory. I kissed you like an animal, and you kissed me like a cage.
VIEW 27 of 27 COMMENTS
mistersatan:
And I'm right here, on the internets! I SAW it!!!
thistle:
Yes. For some reason I loved my house a lot more back then. Perhaps because the "band" only practiced like once a month.