Voodoo

[Listened to slow jazz when I wrote this.]

He asked me, "Ever feel like dying, love?" I told him, all the time.

He'd rushed things, per usual. The sex had been fast, his mouth had been fast, and even the tranq he gave me was fast, faster than I'd wish on a puma.

"It's a game."

"Is it? If I lose, do I die?'

"If you lose, you win."

"Gamble."

"Soothe it, you're not alone."

"My company, a troupe of miserables."

"Like me? What's so wrong with me?"

His eyes, blue but solid as a night, were pouting a sexual droop. His smile rising slowly like exhaustion.

"Everything's wrong with you."

I touched him like I was touching a pool of water with a fire on my hand.

"Now drink up."

I finished the little vial he'd given me, threw it on the floor.

It hit like death, cold and warm and pleasurable and heartjacking,

A noir drip into my veins, pierced with a thin needle of nihilism. Not even that, better yet, so shallow everything is, in comparison to this awesome air.

"I'm sick of seeing life everywhere I go."

"Then don't. Let it take."

"It is." He laughed, the audacious bastard.

"It's only tickled you. Wait."

Audio, some natural thing reverberated from outside the car. It was stuffy, and my skin was kissing the leather seats. A pleasant way to lose yourself.

"...fuck..."

"It's only a fellation, wait till the gasm."

He always had such a dirty mind. Everything applied to sex, and the other way around ensured I was tired from sun to moon.

God, I kept hearing music to beat me dry. A bass sadness, strumming and lolling incomprehensible. I cried bloody when it stopped.

"What?"

"The music. That beautiful music. I want to die with it."

"Love, you scream."

"I hear it right, you liquored fool."

"Was that a question? Was that a succor plea?"

"It was a skill."

"You don't know, little yuri."

We were entangled and hot, excited and cramped. every other word he'd squeeze me, juice me like plump fruit.

"You don't hear that bass?"

"I hear you and sadness and cigarettes."

"That's a bass."

"That's a shame. You whisper lies, lullabye child."

"Play me like an arab's fiddle."

Blame was a timeless thing, in that tranquilized moment, when, despite time, I could hate that man and love his body.

"What does it feel, to die?"

"It feels like it doesn't, it feels like the moment I squeeze you tight and you pull in."

"End your black cryptics, I want to know."

"You want many things, body, I can only give so many at one time." Pain, what I felt within his hand. Strumming a little guitar extension, acoustic.

I wanted to stab him, fill him. I wanted many things, I wanted him to be wrong.

"Damn. So many things I want to know."

"You'll never know anything, you can only feel it. By that, hedonism rules and you forget everything but the moment."

"The fruit, the kernel." He smiled like a forlorn teacher, looming over a helplessly erect student.

"Yes. Like the fruit peeled of bitter skin and tangent seeds."

"Artemis."

"Flattery will kill you."

I kissed him as if I were sucking poison, hard. He drew away after several minutes.

"Your tongue was limp."

"I feel..."

"Nothing. You feel nothing, creature, you cannot."

"I can't reside in your graces."

"You can't anything. Can not."

"Oh, a fool."

"Even your moans are abstract, artist."

"Do you feel time?"

"A command, vacant always feelings."

"Do you?"

"A command, to just be without feeling."

"Apathy is scary."

"Apathy is my wine, my lover. even you."

"I'm feeling things inside me."

"It's sex."

"It's death and fear."

"It's sex and fear and me."

"It hurts."

"Sex hurts, I hurt."

"It's killing me."

"Because it feels so good, you little addict."

"No."

"You've felt too much, wasted your face."

"Oh god, what is it?"

"It's certainly not god, little lover. Little champion."

"You're an infinity, I want to know."

"It's everything you can feel dosing you. Killing you with its happiness."

"It hurts, please stop it."

"I'm not father time, lover. An end is at its end."

"You love me."

"I do a tempered."

"It hurts."

"It's my love, all I can give you without it feeling like it doesn't."

"I love you."

"Love is illicit. I feel you."

Ignoble man, to leave me in his arms. He released, and my kaiser was right. It was like sex, to die and feel.

Triquediqual

I actually enjoyed reading that story and like I said earlier, there was a remarkable sense of emotion felt by both parties and the story plays out magnificently to the end which is also a magnificent line. I thoroughly enjoyed it and well done on this. I couldn't find much that I would change, but there just tid-bits.

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Voodoo

Thank you, Lucas.

I wrote this from the rather depressing branches my conversations've been tending to take lately...

Not even making any sense right now.

Mike C

"His eyes, blue but solid as a night, were pouting a sexual droop. His smile rising slowly like exhaustion."

Nice line. Nice dialogue. Can't go wrong with sex 'n' death. It was rock 'n' roll before rock 'n' roll was even thought of.

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Voodoo

Thank you, Mike.

The Hack

Very interesting, Voodoo. Your skills for poetry are quite evident in your style here. My only comment would be that the dialogue gets a little confusing at times and I needed to do a double take to make sure I knew who was saying what. However, to change this by adding action would have disrupted the cadence, which I was impressed with.

All in all, it is not my style - I'm not a poet - but it was quite good, IMO.

Joelle

I actually really liked this line. It got me interested.
I was just a little bit confused at times, but then again, I'm no poet. The dialogue was good - believable (and I'm picky about dialogue, so kudos). You have a really unique poetic style with everything you write (or everything I've read anyways) and that's not easy to do.

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When he was with her, the music never stopped.

* * * * *

joelle-writing

Voodoo

Thank you, both hack and Joelle, I'm pleased to see you enjoyed it. I wrote this while I was speaking to Tazeen, or space dye vest, and the conversation somehow directed down a sad, noir little path.

Joelle

Ah, I've just realized why I like the first line.
It's lyrical. I like lyrical. I think.

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When he was with her, the music never stopped.

* * * * *

joelle-writing

Voodoo

Something I've been trying lately, can't seem to get away from it.

Writing something now I ddon't like ttoo much, but it's a return from rhythm. I just have to make it sensible and slow.

Joelle

Oh. I thought it was unintentional. Now that I know you've been purposely doing it, it's not cool anymore.

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When he was with her, the music never stopped.

* * * * *

joelle-writing

~Kouryuu~

Wow! But I think everyone has already said everything!! Your poetry skills really shine through this piece! The whole piece was rhythmical and like a dance, changing in feeling and pace in parts - like sex, I suppose! Am sure that was your intention as your work always seems so thoughtout. Truly one of the best things I've read of yours!
Good job, Voodoo, my love! :] Hope to see more of this style from you!!!

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Voodoo

ha- little secret, I don't think tings out, don't have the patience-

thank you, emma, I liked writing it.

~Kouryuu~

Well you hide it well! :]

I enjoyed reading it!

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Fossy

I've never taken drugs, nor had a homosexual encounter/relationship, but this was seriously real!

I felt as if I was the first person; I felt the sadness; the happiness; the hopelessness; the anger; the point.

Well done!

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Fossy's good too. She gives good advice.