Into that good night
By: Zackary Turner
It was night; we were alone, in this house, built with my grandfather’s last string of sanity. The soft glow of the fire on her mild skin was something of amazement to me; she smiled, causing my face to brighten. I wonder to myself if this moment was real, could she really be mine, or was this some torment from my imagination. This pondered my mind constantly, her right hand moved slowly onto my left palm. I hadn't a clue what to do, my heart began to race, before I could tell my right hand was stroking her blond golden locks of hair, I moved it to her face where I caressed her cheek, then she moved her left hand to my right hand, to guide it around her rose lips, her touch was an addiction to me, as if I were an animal who has this desire to feed. Her lips slowly, gracefully, edged towards mine, and when they met, my hunger was cured. She was the answer to my prayers, she was the goddess of my life, this causing me to be her willing slave. She began to retract her lips from mine, and we lay together on the floor me holding her in my arms, and her hands upon my body. I looked into her eyes, I saw the truth, the sorrow, the death, the birth, but most of all I saw the love I had for her and she had for me.


