She
she visits me again, in the middle of the night, as is her habit. scratching on the window, it seems like no time has passed since her last visit. but this time the blood is dried and old.
on her face rests a purple bruise, her fathers eternal kiss. the dried brown blood crusted on her lip attest to his hatred.
she silently enters as the moon hides behind the clouds. tonight darkness is her only friend, and i, her tainted lover, her only hope. tonight the blood holds no pleasure for her and she allows me to cleanse the marks of her fathers violent love.
tonight, as with so many similar nights, we do not talk. her pain fresh and her anger renewed, she will not allow his dark love to rule her life any longer. i realize that this shadowy night will be our last for a long time to come. after tonight, i will forever wonder if this pale, torn lover of mine was no more than a figment of my own tainted imagination.
tonight she lingers on my floor, caressing and being caressed in return. tonight our love is not fleeting and brief but strong and true as most destructive things are, once they find the darness in which to thrive. tonight, on our final wordless night, our tainted love rules supreme over hatred, anger and most of all, the darkness all around us.
when she leaves me, alone on the cold floor in the dark room, i know her only truth. and as she walks out into the night and the light of the reappearing moon slowly washes over me, the cold whiteness of it burns me, similar to how the sun burns her pale cold flesh. as i fall back asleep my dreams are not filled with her but with horrors unimaginable and pain unspeakable. her black blood mingles with me tainted love and corrodes my very soul.
part 4