A Willing Victim

Seek your confessional.  Reach through the grille of Reconciliation, the dainty face of your penance.  Pull aside the faded rose curtains, the color of a dusty, distant sacrifice.

See who would listen to  you:  a silver harlequin; pale, angular and thin like a bolt of lightening.  Your blanched confidante is an emblem of your generation's debauchery, hiding a woman's undeniable cruelty behind a feral mask.  It lingers in the air like incense.  Your shoulders tighten, waiting for her heel.  This is who would siphon your secrets with a kiss and a sneer.

Kneel.  Close your eyes – and rest your burning cheek against the cold, white bones.


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9 responses to “A Willing Victim

  1. He has no idea what he's in for. But then again, maybe he does…

  2. At first I thought this was about a Catholic confessional, then I saw the photo. Excellent! I like how you use that religious imagery.

  3. God, I love what you derive from a photo or painting.

  4. i dunno whether this is scary or arousing, some of both perhaps; scintillating prose ms. a

  5. Wow – I thought it was sensual yet I pictured the hand of Death – death by the strike of passion maybe?
    !! Great post

  6. It's ok if you don't understand, she will explain everything!

  7. oooooooooh……you're good, Aubrey…

  8. She's a stiletto. He'll be falsetto.

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