DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
He’d already built her altar, her shrine, with his hands and confessions, and between the reverent prayers and the wanton ministrations, any other pretense was a lost cause. He took her shivers and their absolutions, their lack of inhibitions, their signs and signatures of undone fixtures; senses driven to seduction and unholy distinction, melding and molding with his, rapture in their ensconced haven. Whatever you want was just a phrase; he had no response other than adoration and devotion, figments of his adulation in bold, fiendish whispers, in feral sensations, in the rivulets of their longing. Two halves and two hearts and two souls bound in the simmering, smoldering fervency and ardency of their desires, and he didn’t hold anything back, not like before, before, before, savage intimacy unrivaled now. They were both greedy and grasping and avaricious and rapacious, acquisitive clenching and holding that neither paid any heed to; proffered, offered, without a perishing thought or whim, beholden to their ardor, their love, their scintillating benedictions: the very few he ever gave whittled and carved and sculpted for her. His body was hers, rising, devoured in the same way that he consumed her flesh; her tongue against his, an unspoken challenge as figures ignited and slid. Every curve, every edge, every arc, every undulation his and hers and hers and his; perfection in their impatience, in their urgency, in their The shyness, the vulnerabilities, any and all reticence had long since shattered – fully aware of what the other craved and hankered. He gave into her demands because they were the same as his more, in wild, wild, abandon, more in an aching, glorified triumph, more in a persistent, growling intention, more in the hissing, grinding esteem. Perhaps they were both mercenaries, perhaps they were both victors, perhaps they were both fixated on and in and around; one hand slid to endow himself with the sheath, the briefest glows barely caught by the water, ensuring it stayed. It lingered back along her waist, waiting, the other trailing its way down to join; invitations extended with little preamble; the preludes already there, beckoning minstrels of time and moments shared. Then she bucked against him, an insistent, declared command, and he smiled against her lips, laughter echoing and bounding off a sharpened inhale, gaze hooded, and closed, and he maneuvered his hips, up, and up, and up, slowly, carefully, intricately, until it was just them again.
Unite and spread the heart apart
