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Scarlet...a short The rope scorched her wrists like salt tears; her ankles too. Her calves, bowstring taut, hummed with an ache’s promise; a doorstep kiss, offering a taste of things to come. The table’s edge gnawed the tops of her thighs All was black in the perfect night of her velvet hood. Time slipped on ice in the rhythms of her breathing and the ticking of some unseen clock. A log crackled in the hearth; the scent of mountain pine warmed the room. “I am Scarlet,” the voice inside her head repeated. A movement of air kissed her skin. A wave of goosebumps rippled over naked flesh like the dancing horses of an incoming tide on a sandy shore. A hint of aftershave. A sigh escaped her lips. The knowledge of his presence warmed her like whisky on a winter’s night. She felt herself grow wet. The clock ticked on, relentless. Her senses strained for sign of him. She could feel his gaze on her flesh. Her body ached for contact. “I am Scarlet.” |
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I felt this... Ty
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I quite enjoyed your prose Celtic ,although might I suggest that you shape this as a poem ? You see ,some of your discriptions ,for me ,feel a little arkward ,for example ,a wave of goosebumps rippled over naked flesh like the dancing horses of an incoming tide on a sandy shore . . . .and time slipped on ice in the rhythms of her breathing and the ticking of some unseen clock . I like the crackling log in the hearth and the scent of mountain pine warming the room . I can imagine this condensed into a poem . Simply my point of view dear Knight and from a complete novice (smiles )
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