“Sculpture of a Goddess” (tragedy) 2-3 Minutes

Coldness surrounds me.  Ripping tides from winds not of this world prevent my darkest of intentions.  But are they so dark?  Can they be freeing?  Can you free me? From that first instant our eyes connected, two souls emerged and penetrated through the light tunnels of our imaginations.  I felt you.  You felt me.  We knew but knew without pause; we knew but knew with fear.  Our hearts raced on chemicals that produced on its own accord levels of speed we couldn’t comprehend—only enjoy.  Within the context of all this motion, time remained painfully motionless.  We were caught, despite our energies.  Despite our wings!  For time has kept my heart guarded from the impulsive pulses that must be released—that must be realized, for what are we to do but remain idle? 

I have stood on top of the mountain, black clouds swimming around my ears, yellow lightning flashing and striking out my soul—armies advancing, making their tumultuous climb in order to stop me from leaping off into the abyss of fear.  Clap!  Clap!  Crack!  Slap!  Growl! Grumble!  Shake!

I held firm for so long…I denied our right to feel one another.  I robbed myself from your tasty delight.  I wish to taste you, woman.  (pause.)  I desire to explore your world—slowly—I wish to crawl over you like a suction of lust, popping and squeezing and slobbering up and down your skin like the animal that I sweat to be.  (beat.)  Oh, RELEASE ME!!!!  (beat.)  My troubles are condemned to the lowest depth of being human.  Agony, treachery, disgusted reasoning; preventing me all this time from your warm

—

OH, should I stop???  Have I taken my admission too far???  Should I have remained a man without a tongue?  Even then I couldn’t stop my heart from speaking out—I must know your answer…

That one particular morning, when I slept over the house, on the couch, you came downstairs wearing a white cotton robe; white bra and pink panties.  We sat for breakfast; that I watched you make—peering at you from the table—getting extremely hard and trying to deny myself my urges to grab you and insert myself inside of you.

We sat—we ate and your robe was magically opened.  You ignored the breeze and allowed me, I think, to look at your package; your milky white breasts perked for attention and my eyes sizzled into the temptation of both of them!

I covered you further with my eyes as you crossed your legs and allowed your robe to reveal more of your body.  Your thighs glistened between the muscle and bone from the sun’s rays, piercing through the front living room window.  You asked me to draw the shades—I did with difficulty as I had not given my hard-on a shift to a safe place.  You smiled as you watched me struggle through it, didn’t you?  You enjoyed my confusion and torture.  Didn’t you?  I shut the blinds and when I turned around, realized in your entirety how undressed you were–how beautifully aroused you became.  Sculpture of a Goddess.

Remember our stare?  I should have taken you then…I should have hoisted you up and slammed you down on that kitchen table and railed myself against your soft, sensuous body. I know you are delicate.  I pictured us attacking one another, dishes of food crashing on the floor, chairs being knocked over and our bones thumping against the table as we pursued our ecstasy.  I wanted your legs wrapped around mine desperately—my penis pulsating—my gut groaning—our lips smothering eachother and you shouting, “Fuck Me”, “Fuck Me”.

(pause.)

But I didn’t; I held the reins back as hard as I could—getting ill and losing my morning appetite as I witnessed the twinkle in your eye go out—I died with you…My intellect buried our passion so deep that I have been choking and vomiting up wet dirt ever since.  I cannot breathe, cannot think, cannot see or feel—nothing exists for me—I’ve locked myself up into a world of nothingness, where ghosts tap me on the shoulder and whisper evil deeds in my ears and all that remains is a numbing vibration in my ribcage that creates a beat to the song of my own destruction.

I have just realized that even now, after coming here and bearing all to you, that even now it wasn’t enough to wake me—I have truly died and have become a spirit, doomed to haunt myself for all eternity…

I am sorry to have wanted and not to have acted—I am sorry for erasing what should have been written.

(pause.)

I am gone.

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