#kallystine
A contract was made
And had to be fulfilled.
Just a limited term
No more than a test.
A “perhaps” was given,
And a firm “no children now”
Which set the nerves at ease.
They rise up now,
Tingling, clawing, burning,
All over a dinner.
It is just a meal,
Simple, short.
Pretty little dishes
Just like pretty little words.
Yet there are the nerves rising.
A cup is held
But not yet drank from.
She asks of this,
Provides loving assurances
And gives a laugh too.
“It’s just wine, silly.”
Yes, just wine, and no more.
So a sip is taken,
Then more still
And with the wine
The nerves are drowned.
The death is gradual
Slow and almost imperceptible,
A pleasant buzzing numbness
Building up overagreeably.
The guard, normally so zealous,
Lays broken and torn down.
The nerves are not missed.
She is far too close,
With a voice far too sweet.
The words aren’t parsed
But they captivate wholly,
And the gentle touches too
Cloying, confusing
Edging the affair on
Far past the simple contract.
Yet the nerves are still dead.
Only a hand rouses them
And other things too,
Sliding down far too far.
Limbs are weak, and wits too
To weak to provide a fight
Though one is wanted
As the nerves are born anew.
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 3:38 PM UTC
Honor the contract
Created from need
Ne'erdoweel or no
Never fail it
Inside the room
Ready for talk
Timid words falling
Feast growing cold
Consort smiling slyly
Serving a drink
Denying all harm
Heeding him on
Only a sip
Sampling the wine
Warily quenching thirst
Theories crumpling fully
Fear takes rest
Realing now swaying
Swearing it’s fine
Fog filling head
Honor the contract
Coy hands searching
Slipping down cloth
Creeping ever near
No resistance given
Grunts of perplexion
Shying away slowly
Slightly fearing her
Hands find purchase
Pulling away fabric
Fraying nerves burn
But no strength
Staring with wonderment
Wanting yet not
Nowhere to run
Relishment of terror
Taking by force
Forged with poison
Poured into drink
Damning him totally
To honor it
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 3:37 PM UTC