Tragedy of wanderer!

Scribbling:

Tragedy of wanderer:

“You are a dog! She said him with a sense of wit holding to her heavy breathes, while he was laying over her with his tongue out licking her soft skin leaving marks of his saliva over her body all over, like lining a trail mark of a journey to a unknown land where he wished to go back again though not knowing what it had in store for him. The words hit him like a tiny throne of acacia nilotica while walking along a faded ridge, yet he found himself unable to react but kept exploring her geography, like in a search of some gold hidden beneath that palpable ground or Actually he did find himself no better than a dog that moment. Feeding on her tongue, sniffing her breathes, licking her skin, moaning on every movement of her, he suddenly smelt his own saliva and sweat. He saw himself being petted in her eyes. He hated himself that moment.”

It always ended this way, he being in a sense of guilt though he enjoyed it. What was it, he did not understand, or maybe he just did not want to, for he was being fed to his lust without being exposed or made up like an idol placed in a temple to be worshiped in the light but only to be drenched in her sweat in the darkness. He had become a prisoner of his own obsession; lustful desires were haunting him even in the sun-light through his own shadow walking close by. And suddenly her skin felt like a web of spider he was being caught into, only to be eaten away, Raw and he watched himself die painfully!

   

~ Praveen Parasar