Renee Winter

Nightmare Ride You drive us through the city on the way to an elegant event: kid-free, carefree. Stop light: a handsome Italian couple approach our convertible. The woman's eyes romance me. Coincidentally, they are headed toward the same affair and they ask for a ride. I eye her cautiously, then the light changes from red to green, and you shake your head, "No, really, we have to move on, we're late." And you take off like a plane on a runway, pulling the steering wheel back climbing one of those steep uphill San Francisco streets. We ascend free as skystars and fly into the night, but at the crest, I look for the street below and there is none: a city cliff, street to nowhere. I take your hand, our free fall going slowly. I squeeze your fingers as my stomach hikes to the height of me, with a sinking sensation of angel-dears being left as orphans, and as we fall, I gasp "I'm sorry for everything," til my tears wake me, only to find that the falling feeling is still there. ********************************************** Power Play Grasp my hair as if it's all of me pull back my head and whisper your commands in my submissive ear and I'll pretend that your hardest part is not your cock, but your inner strength and then we'll see what edges you drag me toward as I fear knowing too much about myself and you. Cruelty not the issue but old, hard-earned steel skin that feels oh-so-soft to the touch, but I know much more. It is skin that reveals partial truths, the whole ones have to be earned by showing that we can take one another to some place secret from the world and only there will our own raw skin show red and ready to heal to one who knows the deepest shame and pain.

[Poetry]            [Prose]            [Gallery]            [Home]