Black Spark: Blackstreet



What is this, that drives me out on his limb?

     At some point, "I love you" didn't do it for me anymore.  No matter how I said it: in the heights of passion or in the depth of emotion, It didn't completely translate how I felt.  No matter how much I said it: the rattling of a dated declaration didn't do my feelings justice.  "Love" was too shallow of a term to define the nature of our connection.
     Looking into his eyes, "Cum inside of me," felt right.  Holding his pumping hips in my hands, "Cum inside of me," became an opening statement before a sacrifice.  I wanted him to know: I am devoted.  What's a word to describe my need to put my life into his hands?  To use risk as evidence?

The intensity,
building with every stroke,
makes me wish I had a womb to capture this moment.

       With my legs drawn over his bouncing shoulders, our rhythms drive me mad.  The thirst for his every drop develops into a compulsion.  Regardless of what sprouted from his seed, whether a jolt of life or a slow death, "Cum inside of me!"  I wanted him to inhabit me.
     His face falls open.  His muscles clings to my body.  Pumping in clinging spurts, we began to bond in a new way.  Spraying.  Churning.  Soaking.  Whether to build a new life or to weather the same sickness, I cast my life into the winds of his orgasm.
     As his body collapses onto mine, I am filled with the unknown.  Questions swell in my head.  Possibilities play themselves out.  What did I just do?  There is so much pending... So much to be determined...  What's a word to describe my desire to die, if he's going to?

"Cum inside of me," felt right.

3 comments:

Bruno Laliberté said...

i was on my way to do my weekly postings on my queer blog when i saw this new post of yours.

you say the word "love" is too shallow...
i say the word has not lost its meaning. it is the use we make of it that made it shallow as people don't treat it with the respect it deserves, throwing it left, right and center, with no real deep meaning [and commitment] behind it.

this text, reality, or fantasy?
playing russian roulette is a dangerous game, one i've played before... and i'm still single nonetheless. if there had been dire consequences, would i live in regrets?...

HUGZ

Forbidden Light said...

Great points, TICKLEBEAR!

I think the word "Love" has lost its strength due to its overuse... I can honestly say I am still digging to find the true definition of the noun "Love".

Although, this piece was inspired by the video above... I have felt this way. I've was in a place, where I wanted to PROVE my love so badly, that I'd play Russian Roulette as a gesture. I think this is a common place, where people struggle to connect "deeper" than before.

What I learned from writing, is that it is only a moment. And, that I was powerfully short-sighted. Thank God, this person loved me enough to not go through with it. I found his "love" in a big puddle on my chest.

Thank you for commenting, TICKLEBEAR!!!!

Bruno Laliberté said...

thankfull!
:)~
HUGZ

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