Cracked Obsidian (life & death of a volcano)

What started as wild molten nights of passion quickly cooled to black flows of cracked obsidian
It began with sweet lyrics
Staying up too late
Everything she wanted to hear pouring from his saccharine lips
Those same ones she loved to suck and bite
She listened intently to his voice
Attentive, trusting
Longing to believe, then believing in earnest
Eruptions of fiery lust and desires

Internal flames backlit his eyes
As she laughed dancing about the room
Down the hall and through the night
His lids lowered as they followed her every step
Before being pulled himself within the eddies swirling around her swaying hips
He resisted her not

Until the day he did

Cooling moments of lust-turned-obligation
Looking over her shoulder as she held his face between her palms
Gripping his phone tightly, never letting it stray too far
Pulling away when she attempted to nibble those luscious lips
Pushing gently as she kissed him in public
Holding her hand instead of her ass
Conversations faltering, gasping, died
Unmoved by her tears
Forgetting simple things
Comforting arms becoming a criss-crossed barrier
Thank you’s and flowers and accidentally brushed touches long cooled, desiccated

He appeared to her as if through a tunnel
Across a dim chasm
His voice tinny and distorted
She beckoned to him as his eyelids shuttered
Attempted to coax his attentions
With painted lips and spike heels, nary another stitch
A chime, he lifted his phone, then pecking her on the cheek, walked out the room
Her final thrust she stood before the tube
Blocking one thick-necked man from body slamming another by her curvy hips and plaited hair
Questions flowed from her eyes
Mascara streaks early in the night
He leaned sideways to look around her once-seen delicious body
Missing the best move of the fight according to the script
Throwing his hands in the air, gesturing wildly
She slipped away somehow unnoticed
Door quietly clicking shut, he never heard her until he noticed his beer was empty
And she hadn’t brought him a fresh one

It was in that moment his phone chirped yet all he noticed was how cold the house had gotten and that her keys were replaced by a single slip of paper signed with her familiar slanted hand:

©️tara caribou – 2018

17 thoughts on “Cracked Obsidian (life & death of a volcano)

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