Silent Footfalls

Silent footfalls , dry crunch of walnut shells
Smells that rise up
from dung heaps,
My charnel house of flesh:
limbs askew,  the sheen glows;
as fire in His eyes
burns pools of light
onto her form,

Will the actor not act
will the walker not walk,
together or alone,
the shoals of breakers
crest clouds
scuds of soap
rinses down the drains
of My mind

who saw  unturned pages flutter?
windows closed; curtains drawn
Yet pages turned

His mind a terrible place to be
      And she lay within
Captured and captive
His thoughts running her ragged,
her form quivering
as His actions became air,
smote her flesh in ripples of desire

Lifting welts and those lignes of rapture
      soft muffled noises ,
scufflings and scamperings

He loved to smell her arousal ,
inspite of her fear of arachnids
and the scuttling scorpions.

Be there -  He intoned
 a metronome of placidity
knowing she would be ever

and Yet pages fluttered
as the air moved
Windows closed , curtains drawn.
her eyes snapped shut,
her mind's leaves shimmered.

What turned over
and dank smells arose
spread apart
her limbs
looked at the raw flesh
strips torn away,
gnawed in hunger
anger and lust.
dripping , wet and
oozing
       viscous   slow

Make me Yours ,
they called in mute
supplication.
He looked
walked
the path till
there was no walker
Played her limbs until the music stopped

Needs a path , needs a walker
a player needs an instrument
if One has no ears
then is there music
Pluck out Mine eyes
He cried.

Take me where no one goes
My end in nigh
      or is it
Merely
the chasm ends
the cocoon bursts open
as
They set foot at TheEnde.