Between Flashes

This piece was originally published on Feminine Collective

I still remember the way
adrenaline burned
when my pulse raced
to sync with the others,
between flashes of light,
and the gulp of yours.
I still remember the way
deviance danced in my veins
when my pulse raced
to sync with the others,
between stops,
and licking you
up off the floor.
I still remember the way
shame seared
when my pulse raced
to sync with the others,
between flashes of truth,
and hot mouths slurping
our cold lies.
I still remember the way
my pulse slowed
to sync with the others,
between flashes of disbelief
and the scalding emptiness
after the taste of my dreams
hit the back of our throats.

3 comments

  1. This conjures a picture in my mind. Its hard to see the details. The place is dark, crowded, smokey. and the disco ball is missing some little mirror squares. I know the music is loud, but I can’t hear it to say what kind – visual only.

    Then, I hear a bit of song, “Closing Time” by Leonard Cohen.

    “All the women tear their blouses off
    And the men they dance on the polka-dots
    And it’s partner found, it’s partner lost
    And it’s hell to pay when the fiddler stops
    It’s closing time”

    I guess that puts you in pretty good company, my friend.

    Like

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