BareTwo hearts thud slightly off beat. Two chests pressed close, bare.Fingertips in all their subtlety, Brush ever so gently acrossA blushing cheek. Eyes close, Tongues dance behind thirsty lips,And trembling lungs draw quickly at heated air.Bodies plead in Silent longing. Tongue-brushed lipsCaress one another. Limbs intertwine, seductiveWords exchanged with each Lingering touch.Their breaths between them interchange form one chestTo the other. Wandering hands evoke tiny soundsThat slip under breath between timid lips.Bodies tremble, unaware and afraid,Driven by impulse, feeding from the urge.Two hearts thud slightly off beat and two chests press close,Bare.
Commission For Charface182The air is thick and abrasive in your throat.You choke back tears as your eyes burnAnd water incessantly. Your palmsReach blindly, groping in the false night for something,To make use of, to cover your face.Your chest heaves as the tiny world-like particlesInvade your body and set off millions of little reactions.Coughing and praying for a moment of relief,But you are cursed with this. Someone nearbyPounds again against the cloth,Sending more clouds your way.'Damn!' You want to scream and run away,But you know you have to work and earn your keep.The dust continues to torment you,And you push through, not finished yet with this day,Already dreading the next.
Prompt from poetry club: in the darkWhite tipped mountains stretchSlowly their spanAcross the pale freckled earth.Burning blue orbs appear above,And hills raise themselvesIn elated tension.With her eyes and so much passionHer beauty unsurpassed.So many wish to see her grace,Yet she only graces the shadows,And she only smilesIn the dark.
History RepeatsCowering in the backseat, listening silently to their voices,I choke back tears. The passive aggression cuts through the airWith quiet precision, burying itself deep into the darkRecesses of my hidden memory.My hands repeat this routine they learned from days,Months, years past.Pressing ear buds into my aching ears, full of silent maliceHold tightly to the button"Volume up"Blare the music loudly to drown their voices, stare down into your lapIgnore the angry facesAnd the pointed body language.They will stop soon; it will be okay I promise.Cowering in the backseat, listening silently to the passive aggression,This with quiet precision buries itself deep into the darkRecesses of my hidden memory.
Lunar Pulse: Chapter TwoChapter Two: Phantom MateClouds drifted in the red of the sky and Hunters strides were no more than a breeze that shifted the first fallen leaves from the end of the Ardens season. He walked without regard to his surroundings; he had lived as a lone wolf in this forest for most of his life, having been shunned from the pack for the colors of his eyes, keeping the company of only his mate, Claire, and his parvus.He stood then on the sloping bank of a stream, where he had first seen Claire. She was beautiful, her silver coat and her jet black markings were nowhere near as breathtaking as her eyes. They were as deep red as the setting sun, and tinged with the hues of a violet bloom. Her strides were graceful, and her stature lean and powerful, bred for the passion of the hunt. She was mysterious and distant, loyal and loving. Yet she was trapped by this forest, always lost in the sky, or in the clear waters of the stream.Hunter gazed down into the reflections of the eyes that he had on
Lunar Pulse: Chapter OneChapter One: Thunder In The SunlightHer eyes opened in the darkness, her breath was rushed and hot. She scrambled onto her paws and stumbled over leaning into the wall of the den. She closed her eyes and perked her ears; a low whine accompanied each breath she took. The cool stone pressed against her fur while the chill of the earth slithered between her ribs. She savored this and rested once more on the floor of the den, sensing her fever, she resisted the urge to dig and bite at the stones trapping her in the ground. She slipped in and out of consciousness, breathing more slowly, not wanting to. . .Hunter nuzzled the kits. He pushed and licked at them until they were safely tucked away in a freshly dug burrow. The opening was small enough so that they would be protected; the burrow gaped deep enough so that reaching talons could not scathe them. Even knowing they were not his offspring, he had worked long that day to protect them. He saw the faces of his deceased pups on the fox-k