It’s a tee. It’s a dress. It’s the new Graphic T-shirt Dress.

Gold

As if it isn’t enough for me to sit there
watching him dry off after his shower,
I can’t help but notice the one miniscule
drop
that he fails to catch with the red cotton
he is now leaving for the shag rug to play with.

He knows I’m watching
which is always good
for his male ego.
And
I can get something
special if I pay attention.

I saw it slip out from under his hairline
right where his fibers became long and tangly,
where they changed colour from tawny to
mahogany.
A translucent little orb of silver tiptoes
through the miniature grasses on his neck.

As it rolls along his spine
it catches up in the
hollows
separating all of the
ivory links that erect him.

The sticky sphere of salty liquid glistens once it
reaches the most horizontal portion of his
back,
where the shoulder-blades form their mountains
of jagged handles, overshadowing the spinal cord.

Picking up speed while riding down
the gently curved slope of
hide
covering everything that was
keeping him alive and mine to enjoy,

I sat further on the edge of the counter in order to
witness the descent of this tiny survivor that was
so doggedly approaching the most sensitive
depression,
only to trickle right through it and become caught
on the tip of the place where his tail would be.

It seemed a suicidal feat
to leap into that dark
crevice.
Surely one that could
not be completed alive.

I straightened my straining crooked body while resuming
my original upright posture on the cold tiles that encircled
the sink and still allowed space for numerous other
activities.
Blinking once, I turn back to see if the marble has resurfaced
and glimpse the bead struggling through the forests on his legs

Coarse strings the colour of sand
protrude from his
skin
and succeed in
delaying the efforts of my desires.

I squint as it latches microscopic fingers around wiry ringlets
and utilizes Newton’s law to the best of its seemingly lifeless
abilities; Nothing is going to keep this ball from its
mission.
I slip from the counter and post myself at his left calf and
lightly breathe downwards, so as to help it along.

Thousands of hairs raise up in
response to the sudden
whisper
that I tickled them with,
opening up alleys and highways.

As it enters the bald area of his ankle, I pinch the tiny droplet
between two fingers and move it towards my mouth. Just barely
grazing it on the moist palette of my tongue, he entangles my thin
wrist
in his sandpaper calluses and helps me stand at his level as I feel
my thumb alight on his full, pouting lip.

Lightning sparks from
my fingertip,
electrocuting
our hormones,
encouraging our behaviour.

Ocean blue confronts moss green with a flick of lashes, so quick
and fleeting, to any curious bystander, it never happened.
I place my finger on the apple in his throat and trace the
path,
lead the way down his firm abs, connecting wth his treasure trail.
I know what he wants. He knows what I want.
Gold.

Gold

Alyssa Medina

Joined November 2007

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 27

Artist's Description

What defines desire? Where do you find it? How do you find it?

it’s bloody 5 in the morning where i am and i couldn’t sleep, so i wrote this. wonder what i’m thinking ;)

love

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