Venus

I can taste the fleeting perfume she so carefully applied only hours ago, but only after its delicate charm has been washed away by saliva are my senses enveloped in her own natural scent. Her skin, porcelain smooth catches shadows and shows me hidden angles. My fingers drape and drag, and I use both hands to pull her essence into me. Far away, I can see her head move from side to side on the pillow, the darkness of the room gives her permission to be vocal. She finds my hands and encourages. I study her, watching in third person as her shape contorts and changes into ever expanding versions of herself, each adding an enigmatic pose to the dizzying array of captivations she commands in her arsenal. Stubble on smooth flesh as the salacious ceremony moves forward, I give thanks with my silent words. She peaks and valleys, I am merely a passenger. With great somberness, I tend and finesse: Untying a great knot. There, she arches, and my hands trace her spine and display her, and in this instant I can see her dismantle herself.

Reviews

[portabello.pig]

Whoa Tim. I get dizzy reading this. It makes me want to do a handstand to get all the blood back into my head. I particularly like the line about merely being a passenger. Well done!

[DavidRyanM]

So right off the bat, well done. Let's just get that out of the way. The line "Watching in third person" is ridiculously brilliant. I don't think I've ever seen that written before -- which is rare in this day-and-age. Also, the last line of "I can see her dismantle herself" conjures up multiple images and leaves the reader with great writing.