Desperate Realities
Vida Janulaitis

I never turned around.

†I could feel the sweat on my back, drop by drop.

†In my heart I loved all that I left behind.

Lust won me over.

†In the deep blue I inched my way towards a promise of a sensuality that every being exists for.

†Orgasmic.

Thatís the word I would use.

†At dawn while the world slept,† I stepped out, knowing that I could win or lose my true love. †Or so I thought.

†She has a hold on me, perverse, like a lover chained to a bed awaiting the ultimate arousal.

†Touch me, caress me and do what you want. Iím simply here for you.

†Thatís the way she talks to me. How could you resist?

†Iíve seen her only once, sparkling in the sun, then the clouds came and she was gone.

The only other gem in the making was in my memory. I logged in hundreds of hours trying to find her, only to sift through sands in my time and cursing the fragility of luck.

In a brief moment I thought I found her, tried to dislodge her, and† after breaking my fingernails took out my knife.

I was mesmerized by the flow of red mingling with the yellow glow,† truly reminding me of an abstract† containing a given art form.

†Gold.

†Rush.

†Tired.

†My eyes shut watching the two rivers flow.


First published: Aug, 2008
comments to the writer: doorknobsandbodypaint@gmail.com