The girl from the mire: part 2
Were we ever alive? Were we ever here? Were we ever?
Judith exists in a graveyard. Her tombstone is so old that it looks like a smooth glacial stone. Protrudes into her dusty, dormant grass world. Inhabitants are terri...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Judith's drawn to her shadow. Wishes to cloth herself in the perfect fit of her male penumbra, which has worn her upon itself since preceding death. She gradually advances. Light, bare feet regard the bed. Glances at herself in the mirrors. Witnesses her womanly flesh. Spins around on the ball of one foot upon the rosy, rustic hardwood floor and exceeds a full circle. Admires herself. Watches her corpse move in such a dainty twirl within every looking glass picture frame.
Judith reaches her male form and bends down. Places her hand upon his cheek. Feels the soft surface and the chiseled hard. His skin is smooth and warm and solid. Feels human. Almost human. Her male form takes her hand. Pulls Judith toward his uninhabited face. Touches her tummy. Thigh. Ass.
Can hear him breathing. Breathing? Yes, he has breath.
She makes out where his eyes should be. Voids. Stares into the endless hollows as if she's staring into herself. Different from the mirrors. Far more curious about this reflection. Feels butterflies for what's about to happen.
Her male form's mouth opens. Tongue moistens his lips. Judith sits down on the bed. Gazes body to body. Touches dark sky lips with her thumb. Bites her own lip and places her mouth upon his. Upon her shadow. Upon herself. They embrace like flesh and phantasm. Kiss deeply. Tongues become each other as they already are. As they've always been.
Her male form lets go of their kiss. Moves both his hands through her copper, green gray hair.
"You've used me in the past, Judith. Used me to scare others. You've wondered about how they could see me and not you. They could always see you, since we're both shadows of shadows. That's all anything is. And this? Your body is like a prophecy and I am like what it means."
Judith peers very close to her shadow's voids until her eyelashes touch his.
"I am you, Judith. I am your man reflecting you. They could always see you through me. And Judith...I have longed for you. I have longed this whole afterlife...I have longed for me through you. I see myself, and in you, I want me. I see you, and in me, I want you. You are my reflection. I've watched you, oh, how I've watched you. And now..."
"Alright, my shadow. But you must remain as you are. I don't like too many hands inside. The girth hurts. You know this. And since I'm you and you're me, perhaps we're merely about to masturbate."
Perhaps the human mind is a genitalia.
She feels her shadow's lap and wonders at its sculpture. Touches the tip with her thumb. Wraps her hand around. Squeezes hard. Moans. She knows what the sculpture feels like. Listens to it. Rubs and rubs and hears it talk like feet slapping on pavement. Her shadow shudders and moans. So does she. Stops and places her nose upon it. Smell is beyond her, since she doesn't breath. Taste however...she licks it's tip and decides that it tastes like her. Engulfs it with her mouth. Her shadows hips move up and down, back and forth along her lips and teeth.
Her male form lays back. Judith spits it out. Swings herself on top. Maneuvers her loins upon her silhouette's face. He pulls on her pubic hair. Presses a finger on her anus. Brings her bottom lips closer to his mouth. Her male form invests his tongue and fingers upon her loin lips and into her.
She can taste his flavour and taste her flavour being tasted. Engulfs his sculpture again. Moans with the shadow flesh in her mouth.
She focuses. Focuses on the lapping action of him sampling her loins. Feels the sensation within her mouth. Are they shifting between what each each can feel? Herself devouring herself in both ways at the same time? Moans.
Her soul fondles itself. All of her is almost completely alive in this movement. Moaning delectations.
Judith lifts her leg over. Shifts around. Faces him. Sits upon her silhouette's lap. Kisses his, her lips. Penetrates herself. Moves her buttocks up and down. Arcs her back. Slowly. Lingers upon the touch of depth. Experiences both pleasures at the same time. Feels the in and out from both interpretations.
Male form cups her breasts. Squeezes both nipples. Judith shrieks wildly. Moves the in and out faster and faster. So does her shadow. A landslide of sweat and sticky. Moans and gasps. Legs shudder. He explodes into her.
In the final moment, as she looks into her male form's facial voids, Judith witnesses striking blue eyes moisten.
She hits her peak, squeezes herself down upon himself for a long moment like freshly open pop cans. Drops onto her shadow. Lays upon him. She kisses her hair. He slowly disintegrates. Looks into his darkening eyes. Her male form breaks into a million pieces. Thins back together. Silhouette moves around her. Reattaches to her contour. Leaves her alone. Damp upon the bed. Drips a mix of ejaculate and skene juice. Shudders and curls into the position of a fetus.
"Motherfucker."
Judith's desolate in this moment. Wants her male form to stay as he just was. Wants yo be held. Fingers reach for the silhouette of her other arm. He's not there. Was he ever? Was this all her? Is this the meaning of her prophecy? What regime of veridiction fornicated with a mode of truth like prophecy? Maybe society does linger within her. Maybe she's kidding herself because it always has. Like so many fingers. Her own sculpture.
Judith turns over on the bed and looks up at herself in the central ceiling mirror.
Gasps at the scene.
"Motherfucker."
Two other women lay beside her in the looking glass. They're like her. Sort of. Watching her. Staring.
One girl is blonde. Wears a monotone grey raglan dress. The other is raven haired. Possesses a wicked grin. Wears a red dress with white polka dots. Hairy legs.
A vibration rattles through the mirror. Distant distortion underneath reality. Terse woman's voice screams like it's being spoken through a crackling record player. Whole room creaks and shifts. Blonde and black touch Judith in unison with hands she can feel. The two distinct voices whisper like snow falling upon the end of autumn.
