woundedheart

Bedtime Ballet

Painted Nails, drawing blood ... red tattoos,

upon the wanton canvas

of his flesh.

Hair pulled back hard,

her slender throat exposed,

to his carnal animalistic need to bite... to taste the heat of skin.

Backs arched

hips raised

toes curled seeking purchase,

Within the fallen landscape

of notted silk and cotton sheets.

Screams of pained pleasure echo... reverberate as vertebrae twist and contort

two bodies moving as one within a singularity of the dance

where the only rhythm 

is their own movement ... the only beat their two hearts

crying out to one another.

Raised voices escaping their lips in exasperated gasps and feral grunts

as they collapse,

their exchange spent

sweat mingling ... pooling in natural crevices 

as fervent prayers turn to silent whispers

as lips wetted ... bitten and softly ... pulled 

adding salt to open wounds

with

a selacious smile.