The apple. The pomegranate. His hand.
The dance.
Chest to chest, hip to hip as if one heartbeat, as if one breath
(step, turn, step)
hand to the small of the back and fingers trailing over stiff linen
(step, turn, dip)
and then the bite of the blade, too sharp to even hurt
(step, turn, step)
red drops on white carpet, rose petal wrists
(step, turn, step)
arm sliding around narrow waist, mouths bruising
(step)
then the blade to bare throat with merciful speed
(turn)
and gentle hands amid the red river
(dip)
lay him down.
Only Fragments 
I thought I was reading a piece about making love… made me feel the words as if they were the blood coming to my heart.
Loved it.
Oh gosh, thank you so much! That might be the best compliment I’ve ever received for my writing!
On Tue, Jun 20, 2017 at 3:37 PM, Only Fragments wrote:
>
I meant it! Really that was the feeling I’ve got right after reading your piece. I really loved it. Now I’m hooked to your blog and reading it all post by post, hence the likes I’m giving to the posts I’ve already read :)
Oh wow, thank you!!
On Sat, Jun 24, 2017 at 6:28 AM, Only Fragments wrote:
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