Saturday, January 30, 2016


Madness is imminent, I think. I once found her presence comforting, a beautiful memory dancing in the periphery of my vision. She is less shy now. Her taunting has turned to torment. She reaches out to me from the shadows, beckoning me to join her. 

The peaks and valleys of her flesh call to me as much as the chilling whispers that echo around me. I see her fully, her curves resplendent in light from an unknowable source. But her face...her face is distorted, hidden in darkness. I cannot see her eyes, her nose, her lips. In these moments, I wonder if it is truly she who calls to me.

Or something else entirely.

Sinful Sunday