Her shoulder blades rise out of her back from the pressure of holding herself in this world; forming mountain peaks to complement the ridge of muscled hills that border her spine.
We are soaked. These rivers run, joining to flow through the valley down her spine. there is so much heat the water should be evaporating immediately, but it flows on unaware of anything other that this mad need to seek the fastest route to the dampening bedding beneath her.
My fingernails leave trails in her skin, line after line after raised line; creating patterns, walls, routes, a maze across the surface of a diamond. A maze with no exit. If I knew the route; if I could solve this labyrinthine puzzle, would I ever find her heart?
Her ink is bathed in sweat; this flood coursing from her should have washed it away by now. These color spots on her canvas writhe and twist and dance for me; compelling me deeper and deeper.
At this moment, in all the world, there is no more regal a landscape, no sunrise or sunset that bathes a valley in a light more fantastic than the beams these weakening candles cast across her.
Holy…. Just… Holy. That’s hot! That was freakn’ amazing. You are such a captivating and poetic writer. The imagery is truly beautiful. I just LOVE it. Get a move on it and write that book already…. I gotta go take a cold shower…