Avalanche

by on March 21, 2015 :: 0 comments

He is a relentless avalanche of FUCK
coming at me like an eighteen-wheeler down a 45 degree angle hill,
all that momentum aimed straight into the softest part of me.
He is urgent.
Overwhelming.
Turns my insides into a storm of desire.
Then again –
maybe I just like his personality.
No.
In the thickness of the wet moments, I have no brain.
He lifts me as though I am weightless,
empty-
then fills me with himself
again
and again
and again.
We become alternating fusion and fission.
Furious skin threatens to break
and allow monsters to emerge
and transform.
We are wolves clawing our way to the surface.
Did I scream out loud?
Or is that just the sound that muscle and bones make
when they bend like light.

He said I wasn’t as delicate as he’d expected.
I said nothing.
Just watch the light play along the profile of the mountain.
It’s safe here beside the mountain-
now that the avalanche has settled
and sleeps.

editors note:

When the tunnel takes the train, that rush and rumble’s enough to make a whistle blow. Whew! – mh

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