She’d fantasize about the weight of a faceless stranger bearing down on her, the full hardness of him thick and long driving her to the edge, his strong hand clutching her throat as she gave in to the burning bliss of climax. Then she would lay naked in the gauzy orange of morning spilling through her shadeless bedroom window and hope someone was watching her, that someone had seen her work herself over and would climb through her window and join her, possessed by need for her. She was thirty-eight, beautiful and unmarried, her only sin being the loss of youth from the corners of her eyes and mouth. And at night she fought tears because Elyse knew that if she didn’t, the scent of her loneliness would only intensify, driving him away – her faceless stranger that would love and lust for her in equal measure, that would dispell the thick gloom haunting her like a ghost’s woe in the house of its murder. Elyse kept smiling, but her unhappiness was more and more obvious to those around her.
(2/3) This is another collaboration with the lovely @instablond1. Her photo, my edit and #microfiction. The words poured from me during this collaboration. Hugely thankful to you, Bar, for the inspiration.
#poem #poetry #poetic #igwriters #writersofinstagram #poetry_addicts #literary_imagery1 #igpoets #its_awards #igpoems #mobileartistry #window #creativewriting #fiction #flashfiction #writing #writer #story #shortstory #streamofconsciousness #portrait #melancholy #sad (at Elyse (Part 2 of 3))