-
While the Desert Sun Sets
“It starts,” she said, her lips achingly close to my ear, “Right here.” She snaked her arms around me from behind and her palms pressed into my solar plexis. She began to slowly stamp her foot, tapping my abdomen to the beat, the tempo increasing, an undercurrent of Spanish guitar conjured up by imagination. dun dun dun dun-dun dun dun dun And so we danced, stomping and turning, like a bull in a ring, we, a beast with two backs, clung together in the still desert night, dancing to ancient rhythms only we could hear. Her cheek was damp against my temple as her hips directed mine pushing me around…
-
Amour no more
She watched him sleep, leaving the bed momentarily to open the window and let in the warm night air. The buzz of neon from the bar sign downstairs was soothing, vaguely reminiscent of crickets in grass; it lent white noise and a pale pink glow to the room. Her lover du jour slept heavily, his skin still glistening from the exertion of their urgent and intoxicated fucking, his heavy lower lip slack and glossy as he snored softly. She touched his hair just to watch him stir and turn over, feeling a faint pang of emotion as he so innocently slept. Was it the heat or the wine that made…
-
Double Entendre
It’s a savage dance, not for the faint of heart. He: Bound by rope and duty, limbless in limbo. She: Delicate spider, spinning threads of slippery fantasy and supple jute The more the rope gnaws at him the more he comes undone, knowing she will bide her time and bind his mind, that she will practice perfect restraint.
-
Drunk on You
The heat is unrelenting tonight, painful and delicious in its own way. I want to put on that song, you know which one, play it on repeat and melt ice cubes against each other’s bodies while the drinks slow down our kisses and the sun gets really low and heavy in the sky. I want to tip over that smoky blue horizon with you, the salt of your mouth dragging trails down my body, sweat and booze and delirium, the cocktail of the most sultry desert nights. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s the mezcal, maybe I’m just drunk on you.