Saturday, 22 September 2012

Imprints

Your mouth leaves marks on my skin.
Imprints of your kisses stay on,
reminding me of your tongue's path.
My fingers brush against them,
sending a beautiful pain throughout
my body, till inch by inch, 
my skin sings with sweet desire.
Each token of your passion stands out,
a trace of vehemence on quivering flesh.
They are my way of holding you close,
when I cannot see you.
They are your signs, your emblem.
They are the vestiges of you.

Tuesday, 18 September 2012

Bars

I am tired.
An exhaustion that penetrates
skin and sinew and bone.
A steely grip on my soul.
Bars hold me in,
I shriek and rattle this cage
but the metal stays intact.
Instead I break my brittle fingers.
My mind aches from pouring out
my heart through my eyes.

Soon, shafts of light work their way in
through the bars, gleaming iridescently
on my sweat and blood and tears.
Always having hidden in shadows,
I am reluctant at first.
But I leap into the light.

My wounds are on fire,
But there is a sweetness in burning.
I am ablaze
with Passion and Courage and Light.
They can cage me in,
But cannot destroy me.
I will melt these bars and break free.

Sunday, 16 September 2012

Bruised

Nicole ran as fast as her little legs would allow, her untidy pigtails flying behind her. With one hand, she held down a bruised apple in the pocket of her too-short frock. Her other hand was wrapped tightly around the strap of a faded book-bag, her knuckles white. As she ran, the loud insults he had hurtled her way filled her head. Her vision blurred and she ran faster. The school gates loomed ahead and relief washed over her. She would be safe here for the next four hours. She ran straight into the arms of the young teacher who waited for her, kneeling in the grass. Ms Carol held Nicole close and stroked her hair, "Did he hit you today?" she asked gently. Nicole shook her head, "Not today," she gasped through her tears.