Res Ipsa Loquitor...

HunterandHunted

Take it all - right down to the core.
Love it. Hate it. Spit at it - until you can take no more.
Open the unsealed envelope and unlock the back door,
Whispered screams - muted smiles,
No false reassurances. No joking asides.

The surge of energy through pulsing veins spark fires of malcontent,
Wishes unfulfilled - soon to be distilled,
In an aching vessel.

Duelling eyes fight centuries of unspoken wars,
Concentrated in a moment of marked, raw flesh and a straining leash.
Broken breath's punctuate the deafness to natural thought.
Plenty of room where feeling used to stand - he's waiting by the door, coat in hand.

A final scream, then final release - drowning the sounds,
Breaking them down.