The Warrior

My dreams sometimes elude me, but not this one.

Trigger Warning: graphic injury, blood, and intense sexual content.

I met him at the tree line
He’d just been shot through the neck
Blood gathered at his hairline
A dripping pool gathered in his chest

His breathing shallow
My aching wallow
The fear of losing him again
I could not bear it, we must ascend

I push his long, dark hair from his shoulder
The wound is already closing around the wood
My fingers begin assessing, he cries out, voice colder
But I press my lips to his, a smolder

I can already see the area pulsing
Begging for relief, his sanity holding
With my knife, I cut the tether from the end
And beg him to be still against the wind

As I pull the shaft from his skin
He grits his teeth and grabs my hand
Blood rushing into silence
An unmistakable defiance

Once free of the enemy’s projectile
I press firmly, using my shirt to stop the exile
He rests his hands in my lap
Taking more than just comfort, unwrapped

I cease his losing
Easing the skin around the grooving
And place a soft kiss on his skin
He raises his eyes to me again

I fall to my knees in prayer for his safety
The gods have seen it fair to spare me
A grief I could not bear, but I am weary
His hands wrap themselves in fallen pieces of my hair, unclean

The blood on his fingers is his own
A part of him, his flesh that is my home
I take his hand to my mouth, as they shown
Taking them one at a time into my mouth, a tome

Reading his eyes like ancient text
The heat pools down into my sex
He lifts me from the ground until I’m seated
His lap was a graceful landing for my fleeting

When he brushes the skin under my skirt
His thumb so warm and coarse, my disposition blurs
The line between us, coming apart
He toys with the soft skin until I part

Hunger sparks when he feels my wet
Knowing only of movement, course is set
His cock is slickened too
What once was one, now becomes two

Inside me, I feel him pulsing
His breath hitches in my ear, our power growing
I push my hips against him, and begin a rolling
His fingers dig my hips, the tension showing

When he’s doused in me, I rest my hands on his knees
Exposing my chest, my heart, my breath and my need
He inhales the air that I breathe
I exhale despair, the fearing leaves

He sees my careful touch with one of luster
Putting an arm around my hips, pulling me tighter
He stands with me, wrapped around his greed
Pressed my back into the bark of a nearby tree

We stay like this, his rhythm ever endless
The taste of his blood still on my tongue
I grapple with his hips until I have won
His looses until we drip with our undone

Afterward, we lie in soft grass
Naked in the sun.

My eyes flutter open, and back to now I have come
Was this a wish, a feral twist of subconscious endlessness?
Or a memory from the depths of my beyond?

---