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I swear to christ every time I look out the door I see something looking back at me. Something just on the edge of my vision - a glimpse of something elusive. Turn, focus, try to see it but it is gone. A shadow on the wall, a flash of light in the night, the sound of a door opening and yet there is nothing. Not even the hint of ghost. Only the sounds of entropy breathing a requiem for the mundane.
Desire burns, but once covered, smolders deep beneath the surface. It is an unquenchable force whose smoky wisps escape bondage to search the night and cover the land in fog. The mists, now filled with the phantoms of longing, conjure images: the hearts desire. Dreams, perhaps. Ghosts, maybe. They vanish once the mind's eye turns upon them and sees, through the veiled sky, the lands beneath.
It's nothing but a shadow on the wall.
How I want my hands upon thee to feel thy flesh yield to my demand, to hear thy voice whimper sweetly against the leather that binds thee. To feel the reality each whispering desire presents.
Such things tug at the edges of my mind never polite, never quite there. Always, that desire, that need unquenched. Those who would seek to rule others, must first learn to rule themselves. Does that make me a king in my own mind?
Your pain. My pleasure. Everything in balance and harmony for there is no joy without sorrow and the more intense the joy the greater the pain.
I don't smoke unless I'm on fire. I drink but not to excess. I can break boards with my hands, and hearts with my tongue. Emotionally masochistic, for why else would I tolerate the relationships I have held so long? Physically sadistic, pain is delightful, as long as it is yours. I do not tolerate stupidity, and intelligence is a vital component of any person with whom I am involved.
I am not materialistic for I will leave this world with what I brought into it and nothing can change that. The memories and deeds are the things that matter. Patience is a virtuous skill I have mastered, though once mastered seems to attract an endless line of tribulation.
There are times when I wish that shadow upon the wall were something more substantial and that I could unleash that smoldering desire.
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