Saturday, March 8, 2014

Mercedes, 15 Years Later.

Teeth strained against gums in a raw, copper-tasting, mouth. She slid into bed with him while a watery sun rose, and was trapped in their gossamer curtains.
(A spiderweb, glistening)

Mercedes wrapped an arm under, around, his neck as she slid quietly against his back --the crook of her elbow found his jugular, then her other hand found the center of his hips, and stalked past it.

He sighed in his sleep, as she scrapped dirty teeth against his bristled neck.

Mercedes closed her eyes; and opened them before he woke. Her hand slipped from his hips up to his eyes, and she gently pressed her fingers against them. He stirred, but only briefly.

She bite one of his ear lobes, and tooth sawed it raw before she slid off his eyes and out of his bed.

* * *

Mercedes let the breeze sway her on her bare heels. Under a thin cloud blanket, the spring morning was warm and wet. She smiled and pulled on the hood of her red sweater. Her grey leggings matched the clouds: patchy, old, fast moving. Despite piles of refrozen snow, she stood, barefoot, her toes blueish, pink-ish.

"See you later, lover." She whispered, staring at the poorly locked apartment building she'd just left. And with that, she walked away, cat toeing down the sidewalk skipping over cracks in the wet sidewalk, letting the cold fail to push its way into her feet.