I taste the bitter alcohol on my tongue, exploding in a frenzy of bubble against the roof of my mouth. I swallow and gasp for air. Why do I drink? Because it helps the memories pass. Because for a moment I am a wild reckless amazon creatures. I am the secret inner part of my mind, Lizzy with the stars in her hands.

Forced laughter, and I watch him over the rim of my glass. I want this man to want me. I know in the back of my head that he shouldn't matter. And Lizzy whispers feminist propaganda in my ear. He does not want me and I walk home alone. Melancholy and pensive I wonder if I will ever find passionate, confusing, befuddling love in this world. I sing snatches of songs to pass the time and pull my coat closer.

It is cold, but I do not mind. I welcome it. Feeling chapped and windblown with pretty apple cheeks. It is cleansing, this full-scale chill. When I make it to the apartment I began to cry. These extremes, these self -inflicted tortures, they purge me. Make me whole again. And Lizzy whispers comforts until I feel numb, apathetic, gone.

I smoke a pack of cigarettes and wander listlessly around the rooms. Kick old shoes and discarded clothes out of my path. The alcohol fuzz begins to fade. I feel worse than before. Head throbbing, my hand strays to the telephone and I dial a set of familiar number. Old habits die hard and Lizzy preaches to me. There is no answer, just a machine. I leave no message, but he will know.

I wait. Moments, hours? Not long. There is a knock, and opening the door I find him there. Tall and thin with blue-black hair and green eyes. Cat's eyes that watch me as, lithe, he moves like liquid silk flowing through my rooms. Sits on my bed. Clothes are removed one item at a time. I see myself through his mind as he watches me from lowered lashes.

Diminutive only in height. Chestnut hair-- short, curly, and disheveled-- a haphazard crown around a pointed face. Wide blue eyes and freckles stand out against pale skin. Dirty feet and callused hands that make miracles upon his skin. Sagging skin. Tight and loose in all the wrong places. I imagine he shoves away disgust.

Naked, he sits cross-legged on my bed. I feel his hands move up my thighs. He pinches and twists my nipples through the rough fabric of my sweater. My skin crawls. I close my eyes and let the pain wash over me. It is a small thing. Lizzy stands in my mind's eye, crying to heaven, wading in blood.

He, Dimitri, pulls my hair, tugs my head back and his teeth are on my neck. I stand there feeling-- I feel not the half person that I have been. The heat rising and quivering brings an electric thrill to my clitoris. Teeth swarm all over me. My thick flesh is now red and bruised as he strips me, pushes me onto the bed. Strong hands force my thighs apart. Cruel fingers prod, and nails raise streaks of red. I need this.

Lizzy cowers, and my mind is sobbing, gibbering, but I ache to be closer to purification and disinfection. I fade and melt in the red haze of his hands, the vapor of his breath, as he bites my lips and twists my arm behind my back. I will die in the flames, crumble to ashes, dust, in the intensity. My vaginal walls contract on nothing and I beg him to hit me. A sharp sting falls on my buttocks, and there are tears. Salty firewater, I am the phoenix, thunderbird. I will rise again. Lazarus, resurrection. Rebuilt from flames. New, heal me. Punishment and renewal. Oh, and to feel. That is the true thing. The feeling that makes me whole, that mends me.

The covers are rumpled and I see fatigue in his cat's eyes. But this cannot stop. Now I am eager, hungry, craving. Let eternity come. I want it all, now. My hands dance soft over his skin, and I bury my face in his crotch, feel the hair coarse on my cheek, and smell his musky fragrance. I taste salt and the thick texture of precum sliding over my tongue. I swirl around the head, gentle suction; he grabs my shoulders.

He pulls my hair again, tearing me away, then pressing me down. My breasts are quashed against my body. He takes his place behind me, and I feel him plunge, his hands in my hair once again. Sweet heat engulfs me. Tears again as he pounds, tears. Yes, tears. I will drink them from a golden cup and relish the taste. Open arms, open flower, blossoming, growing, greedy. I swallow it, begging for more. Fucking me from behind, his scrotum is bouncing against my clit.

Feeling, breathing, being. I concentrate on the pain. Splashes of yellow dance in front of my closed eyes and I hear his breath, ragged. I am the world-eater, the soul-ripper. I will consume, take all he gives me. Alive, real, here, now. Mortal. And it is done. It's over too soon as he leans against me then rolls away. I cover my eyes with my hands. My whole body aches. I am tired.

He pulls on his clothes and takes the check from the coffee table, leaves my home. I do not sleep, but I luxuriate in the sensations of sore muscles and raw skin. I feel free. Awareness soars above me. Lizzy emerges from my euphoria with sparkling skin and a gentle, chiding voice. But I am sated, no longer empty.

Newborn stars fall from her hands, diamonds are in my eyes.

Copyright © 2002-2003 Amber Hipple. All Rights Reserved. May not be re-printed in any form without express written consent of the author. Do not copy or post.