The Destroyer

They should have aborted me when they had the chance. Now it's too late.

The Fighter's Reach

A spider-like hop. A lunging forward with a speed and violence I know you store up in your muscles with each movement. Breath coming quick. Fist flying forward reaching for a target. I see each muscle slide on your torso, down your arms, flexing in your powerful legs. The tension coiled like a spring, flung forward at an invisible enemy. Snap! and you are back in a flash.

I let my breath out slowly. My cells grow flushed and swell.

You don't realize it but your muscles flex in the same way, with the same speed and violence, when you are above me. Sliding in and out at a rapid shuddering pace. I have to catch my breath then as well. Awed at the beauty of your hardness and my softness meeting in a sweaty dance on the sheets. I am not blind to the juxtaposition.

In that moment, sex and violence shimmer as one beautiful star burning in a dead universe. We are that center of everything and close our eyes against the dying of the light.

Monster Tongue

Everyday I step up to the mirror and peer to the other side. That big monster is always waiting for me with a lulling grin, waving excitedly at me. It's long tongue slips out its mouth to moisten its lips revealing razor sharp teeth and red gums. It looks hungry. It looks right at me. Slowly flutters its long eyelashes. Blows kisses at me through the reflective glass. Teases and flirts all ravenous; its tummy grumbles expectantly.

I would hide, but I'm rather hungry myself.