novel eight/secret

August 27th, 2008

I am in a state of misunderstanding. I do not know how she can love him. His sickening eyes, his charming and feral smile. He has a warm personality but behind his smile are a thousand venomous snakes preparing to lash at your collar. His queazy way of walking and talking and smoking and fucking are far too erroneous for me.
I stood at her door, hand on the frame, leaning in to catch my balance. It wasn’t the stairs that made me wheeze. I had knocked on her door, the one with the two. The knock echoed through the hall, and my heart began to beat. It beat so loud that I could feel it ready to leap out of my chest. She answered the door shyly and I had woken her up. The beating heart stopped beating.
Before I left her side I left a kiss upon her forehead, her third eye humming underneath my lips. Smacking sound. It shouldn’t have made a smacking sound. It should have been silent and gentle and beautiful, just like her, but it was loud and obtrusive. He has the legs and feet of many dwarves and hair to reach out and tangle you in his chain of regression. He wants to fatten her up and feed her to the wild beasts that watch me. Not without a fight good sir, I say as I slap his face with my neatly removed glove. She deserves mint sheets and a bed of golden grass and shimmering dragonflies. She deserves sparkles and flowers adorning her hair and morning-time brushes on the cheek. She deserves gentle hands feeling her pulse, life beating beneath her breastbone.
I hope that her third eye sears and burns when he touches her and she realizes he has no control over the hands that are hers and the heart that is hers and the feet that are hers and the love that is hers, and the hair that is hers. He should feel lucky to have her hair gracing his back every night. He has no right of her.
When I see her again, I will have been long gone and I will hold her close. Hopefully, I can bring her to my bed and shower her with kisses from the moon and earth and sun and stars and grant her well.
I resent his statements. I regret not mine.