The Offers You Make For Sin


Scattered we are I think sweetest heart, your Red hair like a fire. Spread out over your full breasts sex hard and fed. Instil in me a sense please that I should fall and be covered. What have I done to you, an evil thing, blessed you were to me, so precious and lost. Those nights I waited for you to text me and you let me stumble. You let me fall.

Through the windscreen the dark clouds fling themselves across the sky, anxious of the pain below, they flee they scatter. We taste the forbidden wines of this life, and weep into damp hands and crumpled tissues, we gather and exchange shamed glances, we hug and hold tight for a second and look to the clouds for messages. Shine my sweetest heart and may I burn for my sins.

Soft and the fairest touches between them on the lips or face the softest affirmation that they… lost for a while in each other were still aware and in fact there in a car on a windswept hill covered in graves and the ever watchful dead. Touches between them that asked a question and gave an answer at the same time. They were in existence. Her scent now in his nostrils full of plastic tube and he closes his eyes and thinks of things they did. He was close to death and would take it willingly.

Afterwards, sitting back, half clothed, smoking a spliff, blowing the smoke through the window opened just a little to stop the rain from blowing in. She would talk, and he would watch her lips, the beautiful things scarred with dehydration, cracked from the violence of their fucking. That voice always in his mind, and she, mouthing the words to his madness.

‘Yet still the hand that bleeds, as blood is the offer I make for sin’

The greatest of times really, and he would would shush her and hold her nipple tight in a grip of pain between his finger and thumb, rolling it. She closed her eyes and through the windscreen and the world about the clouds parted for a second and the low, half asleep December Sun shone through and lit as strokes of a Masters brush, her exposed breasts and throat. Her lips parted a little and she opened her eyes and the sun shone out of them a blue so pale, so lost. A blue of Arctic skies. The drops of rain on the windows made diamonds that moved on her skin. Leave the light on sweetest heart, Let me think of the summer, and let this evil be gone.

But it was just a stutter, an interlude, a break in the fucking cloud. But he held on and held tight to the seconds as they poured between his fingers like Mercury.But just them, at that moment, a perfect circle.

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