Dark.
Soft.
Tender.
Salty.
Skin against skin, red heart in chest against white back. Hands stroking in feather touches, then pressing against the flesh, just to pull away again in this weird, tantalising, organic rhythm.
Warm.
Wet.
Pulsing.
A tension, a shiver, spreading throughout the body, disgusting but enticing sensation, soothing and exciting. Drawing a cry from the throat, from the chest, from what seems the very soul itself. And mind screaming, screaming, screaming, only to cease into dazed whimper.
Pulsing again in harmony with veins, body stretching like a cat, twisting like a worm, a maggot. Throbbing feeling in abdomen, fists clenching and unclenching, muscles tensing and relaxing, intestines convulsing. Everything pulsing, pulsing, pulsing...
Living flesh.
Dead flesh.
Living flesh again.
Mind silent for once, scream echoing in heated, still, twitching air. Unity, symmetry, synchronisation, disjunction.
Pulsing, still pulsing, but slowly fading.
A moment of silence.
Fall of heavy, perfect darkness.
And silence again till the morning comes.