Upon My Arrival, You Shiver: Heat and Cold and Excitement.

Low light in the living room, with one candle burning to supplement it.  The constant gurgle and hum of the aquarium in the corner.

Tonight we made soup, broke bread, wrapped blankets around ourselves, watched brief black and white episodes of directorial perfection.

I am here alone, now.

These nights feel good. Worked for. Earned.

(pause)

In the back of my mind, on the tip of the light point in my mouth just behind my front teeth - the alveolar ridge- where my tongue taps and touches to create sound and meaning and differentiation. These secret, dark places.  This is where you live. Ever present. Ever tempting. Ever lasting.

Frigid. Frantic. Fasting.


(image: Red Party- Virginie Bocaert. via Witches' Sabbath tumblr)