Exquisite Torture

Thursday, 24 November 2011

I turn through the smiles and chatter and there you are.

You don’t make everything slow down around me, but there is a sharpness and clarity to what I see there that is missing everywhere else.

A delicious secret from the masses, but if they looked up then – the intensity has a colour, a smell, a sound. It moves, dances back and forth, bounces off the walls, caresses our skin.

It is alive.

I’ve never known passion such as this; I writhe in the throes of ecstasy and collapse into midnight misery. Exquisite torture.

Extricating myself has proven futile. I am here, at your mercy, terrified yet exhilarated.

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