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1,001 Words for Love I : The Library

She spoke with her hands, letting them flutter like anxiousbirds, her lips shaping words, each as silent as the snow that settled on her shoulders, covered her bare toes, turned her dark hair white. Above her the sun stared off into the distance, its black fur swallowing its own light, its kitten face smiling as it dreamed of balls of yarn and tasseled ribbons and tasty fish, or perhaps it was just waiting for the moon to come so that it could take a relaxing dip in the ocean.


The word echoed through wood, startling a starling into flight. It wasn’t often words were spoken here in the land of chessboards and broken promises. Today, however, they were necessary.


And again the reply. Had she been able to sigh, she would have, her hands settling like autumn leaves to her sides, her frown more resigned than angry. The answer was always the same, no matter how often she asked the question. Still, she continued to ask. Once again, her hands lifted and she spoke in the only way left to her, spiderlike digit forming words and sounds, darker than dark eyes speaking volumes when even fingers failed her.


A shrug, nothing more. Her disappointment was silent as she turned away and walked across the checkered field, across alternating squares of virgin snow and black ice, the soles of her feet as numb as her heart. Tomorrow she would ask again. And the following day. And the one following that, until at last, the answer was yes.


“Lemon raspberry and ice blue cream.”

“Shush, Doll. Make love to me.”

I brushed her lips with the tips of my fingers, please to feel her trembling with anticipation. She was beautiful, hanging as she was, trussed up in silk upon the great web that I’d woven. It stretched across the room, glistening beneath the starlight like a thousand diamond strung together. Still, its unearthly beauty paled to hers.

“I would, you know I would.”

“Yes, I know.”

I traced her lips, teasing long her jawline, down her throat, along her collar bone, than make, drifting downwards to circle her ripening pink peak. My mouth followed suit, kissing her delightful tip, sucking it between moist lips like a confectionary delight, the tip of my tongue a butterfly against her sensitive flesh.


She moaned, her eyes closing, her lips sensuous, framing an oval shaped mouth, the sound delightful to my ears.

“Please please or please pause?”


I smiled, kneeling before her, my mouth on her pouting tummy, her rounded mound, her quivering arrow of desire, my tongue entering her quiver, filling it full of eros, barbed and pointed. I was the hunter, after all, and she my captive. As I filled her, I felt her shivers turn to quaking; her whispers soon turned to moans, her moistness morphed to sea foam that flowed like thick honey along the insides of her thighs and over my rough tongue as I drank her in.


She cried out, this time, the sound echoing in the chamber, her hips lunging forward, impaling herself upon the spear of my mouth, robbing my of any and all language, a discovery I would make later. So it was that I learned the speech of birds once upon a time.

There were no more words, only the language of the flesh, a tidal wave rolling through her as she prayed for resolution, her hands forming fists as well as trees, her toes curling, frustration coloring her every shade of fire imaginable as I left her on the cliff’s edge forever and ever than robbed her of breath and life, my mouth sealing her delightful cavern, finger clenching her buttocks.

“Yes oh yes oh yes oh yes.”

Like a flower of the mountain she came for me, sweetly oh so sweetly, screaming my name at last… oh, if I could only remember it…



I awoke, startled out of my dream, her face hovering over mine, her tired eyes full of concern.


“You were dreaming.”

I smiled, nodding, remember the dream, my lover at my mercy, my tongue pushing between her puffy petals, filling her, erasing the memory of all else.

“This is the dream, and I am awake.”

“We’ll be late. Again.”

I pulled her into my arms. We were both late that day, my mouth smelling like strawberries, hers smelling like cantaloupe. Hopefully breakfast disguised the scent of passion drenched pussies, not that either of us cared overly much. We were young, and in love and even knowing what was to come, and what had already come to pass, muted my joy.

“I am glad I found you again, Alice. I was worried.”

“You know that you’re fated to lose me over and over…”

“Shush. Not today. Perhaps not tomorrow, or the tomorrow after that. For now there is just us.



Again she turned away, diamonds cascading from the night sky, frost clinging to her nakedness, hands fluttering uselessly as the sun yawned and its whiskers quivered as it fell into a gentle doze.


Again, the word echoed across the fields, brushing through a forest of black and white pawns, blowing a dusting of soft know from their rounded heads.


I wrapped my wrist in wine soaked gauze, holding it up to the light that broke through the cathedral window. Stained glass and sacramental wafers crunched softly as I walked down the aisle, the carpeting beneath not much more than a memory. At the far end, she stood, dressed in white, something we’d debated endlessly amidst much laughter and not a few tears

Beside her stood a huge cat, sheathed in white fur, his smile stretching from ear to ear. I felt my stomach lurch, but kept walking, ignoring the prints of blood left in my wake. For her I would risk anything, even death. For her I would travel beyond the known and into the pages of make-believe. For her I would eat birthday cake and drink wine. And for her, I would face monsters.


I felt rough hands grab my wrists, tugging at me, holding me in place between the pews of the church no matter how much I struggled to reach her.

I shouted her name, forgetting again, as I had the day before and the day before that, that I had been robbed of speech.


Once again, that command, this time from her, from my Alice.


I awoke, her face hovering over mine, blue eyes that one sparkled with laughter now dulled with worry, her gold curls framing her porcelain face.

“You were dreaming, Lucy.”

Unable to draw a breath, I simply nodded, my eyes full of silent gratitude.

“About him?”

Again I nodded, and she replied with a smile, erasing his memory the only way she knew how, gently parting my thighs, dampening my soft down with her kisses, her tongue teasing me open until I shook and cried and went rigid, my fingers clenched in her golden locks.

Afterwards, we lay together, our breath one, our desire one, our heart beat one, staring into each other’s eyes until the world went away and the kitten faced sun remembered to chase moonbeams into the ocean so that the stars could take their place.

“And now?”

I smiled, running my hands through her soft hair, her perk nipple trapped between my lips as I stroked her familiar pussy with careful bliss.



She spoke with her hands, letting them flutter like anxious birds, her lips shaping words, each as silent as the snow that settled on her shoulders, covered her bare toes, turned her dark hair white. Above her the sun stared off into the distance, its black fur swallowing its own light, its kitten face smiling as it dreamed of balls of yarn and tasseled ribbons and tasty fish, or perhaps it was just waiting for the moon to come so that it could take a relaxing deep into the ocean.


Her heart stopped or stilled. Time as well, stood still. Mid fall, snowflakes hovered motionless, trembling as gravity tugged pointlessly at time.

Again her hands fluttered, reframing the question, and again the answer came.

“Yes and yes and yes and yes.”

Joy measured her steps as she bounded across the checkerboard field, the ice cracking beneath her feet until she stepped upon the black queen’s square and was swallowed up, the echo of the broken ice lingering on the air as the snowflakes resumed their journey.


Make love to me. No words, only a smile. It was enough. We made love, memories buried so long ago bursting from hearts that were learning to beat again. Today and tomorrow and the tomorrow after that and on and on it lasted, each time her cries mirroring my own as we rose and fell and rose again with passion and desire and, most of all, love…


“I had a dream, Alice.”

“Hush, Lucy, it was just that, a dream.

I shook my head even as she pressed her spiderlike digit against my lips.

“This is the dream, Lucy, if you want it to be.”

Gazing into her sapphire eyes, I nodded slowly, wanting desperately to believe her, losing myself in her as she pulled me close, her iris opening. With a gasp, I feel into her, tumbling end over end, the sound of laughter fading, hands brushing my skin, kisses dusting my hair until I knew no more for a time.

And then, I awoke.


“Where am I?”

It seemed like a good question, even if the answer was obvious. I was surrounded by books. That doesn’t quite do my surroundings justice, really. Not dozens, not hundred, but an infinite amount, all stored on shelf after shelf in what appeared to be an endless library which answered my first question.

“A library. But where?”

“Does it matter?”

A strange voice. I turned, staring at very average man dressed in a rumpled hounds-tooth coat and a mustard yellow tie.

“Who are you?

“Good question.”

“Thanks you.” I said, feeling suddenly pleased with myself. After all, I was obviously in the midst of some sort of mental melt down and yet, I was able to still have a reasonably sedate conversation with a stranger.

“You do have a name?”

“Do you?”

“Yes, I’m…”

I caught my breath, my name suddenly a slippery fish on the ice. Every time I tried to grasp it, it eluded me.

“You’ll find it doesn’t matter here.”


I found myself speaking with my hands, letting them flutter like anxious birds, my lips shaping words, each as silent as the books that surrounded me, my bare toes digging into the black and white checkerboard carpet. Above me hung a multitude of balloons, all black with white whispers and wide white smiles and white eyes that stared off into the distance. As I watched, they seemed to focus their gaze down wards and purr in unison.

“As I said, it doesn’t matter.”

His voice was a symphony, echoed by every single balloon floating above.

“I have a name, if I you could just give me a moment…”


The word echoed through endless chamber, startling me. I got the impression that weren’t often spoken here. I glance up, amused to find the plump cat heads frowning at the rumpled man.

“No,” He said again, this time gently. “It will only make it more difficult for you. Trust me, you don’t want that.”

I had a sudden vision of cold, cruel eyes and blood. Shuddering, I nodded, thinking that perhaps he was right. Defeated for now, I sighed, turning in place until I’d completed a full three hundred and sixty degree turn, bringing me face to face with the nameless man once more.

“What do I do?”

I felt suddenly tired, not to mention lost and confused.

“Lose yourself in the books.”

He made an expansive gesture, and I followed his hand, my breath catching at the enormity of the chamber once again. Millions upon millions of shelves, each lined with hundreds of volumes. Perhaps every book ever written.

“Am I looking for anything in particular?”

“Wonderland.” He said with a wide smile. Above us, the cats smiled in tandem, and I felt a tremor passing through the building.

I will wait for as long as it takes. Today, tomorrow, the tomorrow after that. Find me, my love.

A girl’s voice, gentle and full of love, teased at my thoughts , recognition turning to frustration.

“Where are you?”


“Wonderland.” I repeated, once again grabbing hold of the fish of memory and losing it to the swiftly flowing stream, leaving me with the fragment of the memory of a dream as the rumpled man faded until there was nothing left but a smile. And then, even that was gone, leaving me to explore the library, suddenly curious enough to pull the first book I came across from the shelf and open it to page one. I felt a moment of vertigo pulling at me, distorting me, gravity twisting me inside out, watching in disbelief as the library disappeared from view, to be replaced by…

To be continued.

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