brady max

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Saturday, March 10, 2012

Accident?









Accident?


In the navied night - weaving through the dappled darkness libation lingers warmly lapping her breast - licking her nipples hard - pounding with whispered wondered memory – of the echoed clink of first fine crystal glittering – of walking into that room of plenty on strong long young legs – of her sacrificed self, toll charged entry under the skeletal hand chill against bared back – of her young manicured nails gleaming lightly on that proud turkey-necked man languidly leering her among them – more than he had any right to touch- beyond any natural right to handle. Memory rippling running as windswept waves – of lacivious heads staring - at her - lithe and suddenly stunning in her still-store-tagged dress. Just two hours agreed, a quick ask for settle in the hallway and now out in the cold navied night, in the dappled moon silvered darkness – that oak tree appearing as scornful sentinel sent confused from its roots to stand witness to her hurtling headlong path – “Trouble?” a voice drifts distantly from Mars dripping into the pooling blood in the navied night as crystal shatters and all fades to undappled certain solid forever black. 















5 comments:

  1. There is a mystery here, and I am not sure that I have it figured out. An evocative write.

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  2. Intriguing, and a bit surreal. Strong precise language pounds your reader, Pearl. A dark story in that "navied night." Well done.

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  3. Sound like a CSI opening to me... Was she murdered or did the deed? Trouble indeed! :)

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  4. I like "navied night". It should be a colour of paint.

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