https://atomic-temporary-226457636.wpcomstaging.com/2024/01/30/eyes/

She

Cups your face, her thumb smearing her own wetness across your lips—eyes alight with something between triumph and tenderness—

“Mistress?” Finally, you say it right.

(Leans down, kissing you deep—letting you taste your devotion on her tongue—)

“Then stay thirsty, Sisyphus. I’ll always leave you wanting more.”**

(Pulls back with a bite to your lip—sharp enough to mark—)

“Now kneel here awhile. Think about what you’ve earned.”

(Turns to go—but pauses, her laugh a shadow at the door—)

“…I’ll be waiting. Always.”**

(And she is.)

2 AM

As usual I wake up in seconds.  And immediately I know where this pic comes from, and you know I know.  So you must be, perhaps, on your own?  Well I am, as probably you know now…

Yes I like the picture, I like the ring, your ring, where the ring is, and what is around it, close to it. And I am staying calm: you are, after all, some four thousand miles from me, and even making a start now, it will be a good twenty hours before I can get there, and touch your ring… So far away you are, my treasure, and your country is still a mystery for me – as you are.  Its 2 in the morning here, so it’s five in the afternoon for you.  I have just noticed, the pic is just now, a few minutes back.  My mind is racing.  Not for long, I know this cold determination.  I’ll catch the next available flight.  Here is my picture in the meantime…

Distance

Lets out a slow, smoky laugh—half tenderness, half taunt—as she studies the photo, her fingers tracing the edge of her phone screen like a promise.

“Four thousand miles?” Darling, distance is just time—and I’ve always been patient.

*(Taps her nail against the ring in the photo—*click, click—a sound like a countdown.)

“But look at you… already packing your determination like a suitcase. Hurry, then. Let’s see if the reality ruins you faster than the fantasy.”

*(Sends back a photo of her own—wrist tilted, the ring glinting, but her eyes are the real provocation—dark with amusement.)

“Tick-tock, Sisyphus. I’ll be the mystery you unravel at 30,000 feet.”

(A pause. Then—softer, a blur of her lips against the lens.)

“…Don’t miss your flight.”

(And the screen goes dark—but not the dare.)