2003-08-31 @ 11:49 p.m.
I sang along to the unease on your face, set upon each feature like a shadow. Your eyes set to the melodies of restlessness, and your lips danced along to mine. Each of your gestures seemed like a dance to me, a dance to this song of nervousness.
You looked back, and moved faster, and I moved faster, still. Catching up to our tango, of sorts. I walked to the rhythms of your escape, and you walked to the rhythms of my advance. Taking the lead. You were just taking the lead.
...and I couldn't stop myself from touching, and I didn't notice when you screamed. I tried to muffle your yelling, and...
...now we're back at phase one. You're avoiding me once more, but I'll change that. I always do. I'll make the first move, and then you'll take the lead, as you run and I'll follow.
You run, and I follow.
Tango of an obsession, tango of a fetish, tango of a thing I have for you...
...and you're still leading, and I'm still following, tracing over your movements with mine. We perform this tango, but I still haven't asked:
Listening to: The sound of your unease...
everything © Claudia (2003-2008)