Sometimes as I lay in my bed at night I can hear them. Faint whispers that swirl around my head. They are never really clear. They run together like raindrops that join the rambling river that flows through my brain. Touch him touch him. Feel his pulse can you taste his life force? Touch him touch him touch him. I try to ignore them, these whispers. But they will not go away, they are always there.
Like the sky above my head, and the air in my lungs they are always there. Omnipresent. While I go along through my day they are quiet, as if they understand that I need to concentrate. But as soon my head hits that pillow they are back, whispering, conspiring to do something, but I'm not sure what. I can hear them and it disturbs me. He'll do it. Just watch. Just push a little. Touch him. Push him. Touch him again.
Sometimes if I am really still I feel their icy and slimy fingers like the tentacle of an octopus run all over me. Over my face, over my chest and across my stomach. Lips like pieces of liver gently brush against mine. Can you taste his life force? Kiss him its so strong.
They use their lips and fingers to explore me and learn the curves of my body. If I listen hard enough I can feel them searching my mind, holding my memories in those icy hands. Rolling them over. Tasting them and committing them to their own memories. I feel violated. They are taking what is private, what is my own and trying to make it theirs.
I know I am not crazy. This is too insane, too real, the feeling too unshakable for me to think that I've lost my mind. Inside these murmurs that travel up and down my body I have found what it is that you think I've lost. Can you hear them? Touch him. Kiss him. He needs more. Not strong enough. We need him to do it. He needs us to tell him. Touch him more time. Kisses like rapture.
They are my salvation and I am theirs. You must think I am unstable. You must think me daft. But if you could hear them, feel their gentle caress you'd know what I know. I don't see anything that you everyone else can't see.
Sometimes I wonder where they came from and what they want with me. They are scheming and I know it is not good. I know that they make me glow with an unhealthy light. I know that I should cast them away, my precious whispers. But I can't. I am a part of them, and they now have taken over me.
On one of these long sticky nights spent lying in my bed with them I felt the pressure start to become too much. I longed to reach out and touch them. What would they look like? Would they be heavenly creatures with long flowing hair and a body that only some ancient artist could have envisioned then chiseled into marble? Or would my eyes fall upon some ungodly, unearthly monstrosity with to many arms, not even eyes and snakes sprouting across their head like Medusa?
When the whispers became too much, and my sickened passion rose to heights that was starting to crush my brain I pushed myself out of bed and put on my clothes. As soon as I was outside beneath the effervescent and scintillating stars they were quieted. Not a peep, or should I say not a soft murmur that fondle and pet my brain, came from them. They had no domain once I was away from that bed in which we've spent so many nights together.
Walking through the neighborhood I saw the world and the night through fresh. That is when I saw her. She was my Aphrodite. She was perfect and unfamiliar to my eyes. As I walked by the world I as I knew it started to spin. How I longed to touch her. To smell her and run my fingers through that lush blond hair. And those eyes! Where did she ever get those eyes? They shone and sparkled with such vigor that the stars above surely would be jealous. Perhaps she stole a piece of sky and put it into her face. Her eyes were the same unbelievably free and uplifting blue.
As I passed her, barely able to keep my heart in my chest she spoke. A voice of an angel which floated to me on a sweet wind laced with Jasmine and honeysuckle. "Hello."
Oh agony! How can I continue to live without her? How could I have lived so long without knowing that this dim world contained such hues, such shades, tints and tones of beauty? Oh mercifully God let me have her or let me have death. Soon as I was home my companions, my constant confidantes through the night were back. And they had a plan. They are here for me. There are here to help. To give me what I need and make no mistake I need her like I need oxygen in my lungs. I need her like the earth needs the sun and the moon.
They had a plan. Yes, they had an idea. They needed her too. Touch him. Push him. Tell him. He needs her. We need her. Did you smell her life force? So sweet and strong. Push him. Touch him. Kiss him. All through the night I didn't sleep. I couldn't sleep I had to listen. I had to have her. For me and and for them.
They murmured, whispered, cajoled. In the morning I went to work as usual, but it was not usual. There was a new fever about me. A new sickly, yet energetic bounce to my step. Oh yes, they told me it all. Everything I needed to know to make her mine.
The next night I could barely contain myself. I couldn't eat, I dare not lay in my bed. The passion was building up. The hunger for her was overflowing. The urge to satisfy them, to satisfy myself was intolerable. This was a fire that didn't need to be fueled. On autopilot I walked out the door and retraced my steps from the night before. Soon I smelled it, the enchanting smell of jasmine and lavender. It was her, my undocumented angel, a Goddess among mere humans.
She barely fought. It was no problem at all because my desire was stronger than her will to survive. I quickly took her back to my house and laid her upon my bed. Oh joy! They were elated. They were beyond ecstasy in their rewarding words and touches upon my body. As they kissed and touched her, while kissing and touching me I finally understood. I needed her life force to live, and they needed mine.
I didn't feel bad about the shell that was left behind. She was my only one. I loved her, and the whispers love me. For the next few weeks everything was as it should be between us. Murmurs in the middle of the night in my ear. Touch him touch him. Feel his pulse can you taste his life force? Touch him touch him touch him. Can you taste his life force? Kiss him its so strong.
All too soon the pressure is back, and the rapture is starting to fade. My body is feeling weak and my heart is lonely. I know what the whispers need. And I know I need it too. Off into the night I go, and even though I am not laying in my bed they are out and about in the night with me too. Me and my whispers. Out to find another love.