lust letter

a gothic free write

me and my heart-shaped carnelian crystal

dear you,

have you thought of me recently? i think you have. you ran across my mind pulsing and pursing your fingers inside my pussy.

at first i was surprised to feel you down there, but i soon let you get to work. bouncing back and forth. traipsing in trapezoidal fashion. bucking and groaning i came to you. is this what you wanted? my head, not my heart? i give it to you but stash half for safe-keeping. i always think ahead.

i wonder why you summoned me. did she disappoint? did you get overheated in hot sticky sheets, long for my ice queen scepter and regal neck? i would never hurt you. i would always keep you at arm’s length.

but i decide to be devilish. you summoned me; i came. and came and came and came and came. so now i come to you.

long brittle fingers tracing up your throat. my fingernail falls on your tongue. you swallow, supplicant. i smile, bare teeth. you want me to sink them into the side of your neck but i won’t; too easy. instead i coil round your ears, burrow in your brain; a snake, i stretch myself across your broad back. you shiver and shake; i’m a human centipede. i bite flesh, taste bone.

inside you now an empty throne, an overthrow of the heart. a knock on the door; i fling it open with glee. i am the mistress of this house. an unopened invitation, but your eyes softened whenever i would stay.

the disgraced princess. sweaty and weeping at your doorstep. not my cross to bear but i am a good samaritan. dust off her tears, straighten her straps. her corset squeezes into a body not her own. but i let her sit atop the throne.

i know this is what you want, sanguine dreams, paradiso perfect—both of us inside your walls. but you should know better than to think i would fall; yes, perhaps stumble with grace, but i always remain, the last woman standing tall.

is that why you thought of me recently? i lick my finger, prick the air; though the wind blows neither here nor there. my heart grows heavy, eyes grow bright, but i know i’ve done my duty tonight; i kept you contained in my pussycat smile, trailing back and forth all the while; giving you praise with lips bowed, heart strung; head so good i’ve started speaking in tongues.

and for that i thank thee.

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i’ve been reading the monk by matthew lewis and wrote this weird little ditty post-pleasuring myself. his prose must have gotten into my brain because this is what came out. even ended with a “thee” and everything. completely unedited free write - enjoy (or don’t).