He makes me blind, I couldn’t even read him if I ran my hands over his face, there’s nothing there to feel for clues. There is no brail written with frowns, no Morse code to read with a tense tic of his jaw, just me in the dark even though it is light. My.

It shatters the game, exposing the players.

The mind is so easy to control. Once you condition a human to pain, all we need do to ensure complete co-operation is to immerse them back into the environment where torment was their daily bread, and subservience is immediate.

Turning away, sobbing, I hide behind my hair, the kettle and coffee forgotten. It’s too hard to talk about it. I can’t talk about it. It’s no one’s business but mine. The trauma breathes in my blood, it feasts on my life, it gives me cold sweats and nightmares still.

If internal pain showed on the outside I’d be in ICU for the rest of my life. No amount of stitches could staunch the bleeding of my broken heart. The sadness dilutes my blood. I’d never scab, I’d bleed to death. Then, finally, the pain would end. I’m.

Because I thought you were a dirty angel, but you fell before you had a choice. The dirt wasn’t yours.

When she whispers seductively in my ear, even my DNA reacts.

Eyes darker than a midnight lake penetrate my thoughts with their intensity, and a big hand warmly covers mine.

I’m not a man easily moved to displays of emotion, but tonight I am weak, I am vulnerable. It must be from being inside her, so close to her, breathing in her pain, and love, and light, and blossoming vulnerable beauty.

Dropping my head I stare at the carpet, counting to four, waiting.It takes nine long seconds for her to find the courage to crawl around the couch, halting on all fours to stare at my feet, never once looking higher than my knees.