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ágætis byrjun

--- --- --- -- -


- -- --- /

[a broken sigh slicing the silence]

so, so pale
your white skin
under my trembling hands.

(fly me to the moon)

my name,
a fractured syllable
on your tongue

(let me play among the stars)

my fingertips
stroking soothing absorbing
eating your cells

(you are all I long for all I worship and adore)

branding you
writing our future
on your body

[and then]

- ! -

right there where the clavicles meet

(let me see)

a mark

(what spring is like on a-jupiter and mars)

two parallel lines
running thin and straight across your cutis
always and never touching

(in other words, hold my hand)

one was made by you
the other was made by me
please --

(in other words, baby kiss me)

-- please.
do not ever do something like this to yourself

(in other words, please be true)

please. with all my being.
please. we have only this.
please. nothing else matters.

(in other words, in other words)

I missed you

(I love you)

this time -- stay.




Feb. 21st, 2011 08:08 pm (UTC)
actually, this was a dream I had back in december. as soon as I woke up, I wrote down the jumbled images still lingering and yesterday I decided to unearth the papers.
In fact, it was about K/S.
it's difficult to discern, but I think that Kirk was the telling voice, and Spock the one with the scars.
it seems incredible, but the close-up of that patch of white, soft skin is still so vivid in my mind..
I can feel the texture under my fingertips and our bodies are imbued with pearly light and sighs and the rustle of sheets.

(it was post-TMP era, of course)

But re-reading what I had written I realized that it could be about J&P as well so.. here you are.

(I was wondering about that clavicle)