12 July 2006
Motion. He could not move.
Inertia. His muscles would not respond.
Seduction. Her voice soft and quiet
held him in its spell
on the featherbed, she
standing on the side
and his hands reaching up
to touch her arm. Her reaching down
where testosterone surged,
riddling his code beyond sense,
charging every cell, flooding the brain.
In the moment after she joined him,
his heart raced violently into a wall
and his face contorted, his body arched
and she took hold of his neck
plunging her teeth into it, sucking it
dripping with blood, tasting the salt.
And one last murmur issued forth
before he collapsed into unconsciousness
and she lifted off the bed
and walked away. In that moment
she knew that the world was doomed
and oblivion was all that mattered.
She did not look back, leaving a trail
of blankets on the cold, marble floor.
© 2006, Satya J. Gabriel