ext_291462 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
noir-au-blanc.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
31_days2012-07-18 11:13 pm
noir-au-blanc.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2012-07-18 11:13 pm
18 July - Original - The Cats Miaow
Title: The Cats Miaow.
Day/Theme: July 18 – "With Ink Stains on her Fingers."
Rating: PG
Summary: Fragments of a Sundry Day.
Her stories were made of letters stitched together. Slowly they formed the words and sentences and structure of which made up the stories of which she spun gossamer silk.
She was the cat who had the cream, and you would extend hand to stroke through fur, and her miaow’s wind down your spine.
Her mind is so blank, in the instance that you need words, her mind needlessly plunders an information bank of sentences and fluency that maybe, just maybe she can use. And that futile reach for something, anything of which to latch apon slips further away.
I would dig nails into back and teeth into throat.. to guide your face with my hands to see what I see, to wrap my fingers through your hair and kiss the line of your jaw breathing you in.. I would do these things. I would, I would.
"I want to sleep for a hundred years she said.. that would soothe my soul and mind, and should I wake before those years are up, I want to sleep for a hundred more."
Funny how words fall out of the mouth, all the time never to shut up or to hold in, not this time round.. Im to tired to strike lines through and through, my fingers smudged blue and black from sweat and ink.
Maybe tomorrow, I’ll edit.
Day/Theme: July 18 – "With Ink Stains on her Fingers."
Rating: PG
Summary: Fragments of a Sundry Day.
Her stories were made of letters stitched together. Slowly they formed the words and sentences and structure of which made up the stories of which she spun gossamer silk.
She was the cat who had the cream, and you would extend hand to stroke through fur, and her miaow’s wind down your spine.
Her mind is so blank, in the instance that you need words, her mind needlessly plunders an information bank of sentences and fluency that maybe, just maybe she can use. And that futile reach for something, anything of which to latch apon slips further away.
I would dig nails into back and teeth into throat.. to guide your face with my hands to see what I see, to wrap my fingers through your hair and kiss the line of your jaw breathing you in.. I would do these things. I would, I would.
"I want to sleep for a hundred years she said.. that would soothe my soul and mind, and should I wake before those years are up, I want to sleep for a hundred more."
Funny how words fall out of the mouth, all the time never to shut up or to hold in, not this time round.. Im to tired to strike lines through and through, my fingers smudged blue and black from sweat and ink.
Maybe tomorrow, I’ll edit.