Monday, 10 November 2008
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Takk...
By Sigur Rós
Seaglopur
see relatedThe pointest teeth of dogs and men often go awry.
It tasted blood, the blood of the hand that reached out to caress its head softly, lovingly.
The white sank into the pink, through to the red, til the salty clear was drawn out. And then it knew its crime. It knew the cost of its release. the teeth that were once used softly to show love, and playfully to show desire sank now upon the softest flesh, the gentlest hands as it might the neck of a rabbit.
It tasted blood, it tasted shame, it tasted the sleeplessness of guilt, and the bitter ache of wrong.
Though it bit in fear, it bit true. It bit deep. And the taste shall bite it forever.
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Comments (2)
I miss you.
The only way the hand could heal is from a kiss from the mouth that bit...and it has.
The wound is not as deep as it thinks.
I need you.
I love you so much...sometimes I can't even comprehend it.....
@t_sheffield - If I didn't have you, I wouldn't be able to deal with days like yesterday at all. If I didn't have you, I wouldn't be getting this looked at. If not for you... I don't want to think about it. I love you, bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh...