deepundergroundpoetry.com
nuit du loup
…would love be more gentle in the arms of a beast…
she had been hurt. severely. & this wasn’t the first time. she had
come to realize that she was not capable of being loved. men
would use her till they had their fill, then she’d be alone again.
she was in her car now, driving very fast, with no destination nor
plan. after many miles, the sun was gone, & the highway had
succumbed to a simple dirt road. the bright moon held her
transfixed as she drove, & the smooth streaming of the headlights.
suddenly, some creature seemed to leap in front of her; she heard
it scream as she hit it. her vehicle swerved, & she felt a vague
dizziness. then there was silence, & the inevitable blackness.
when she awoke, she was in a bed, a blanket over her & her head
bandaged. there was a man in the cabin; tall, broad-shouldered, &
for a moment she was afraid. but it hardly mattered what his
intentions were, she wasn’t saving herself for anything.
he gave her a thick soup to eat; it nourished her & revived her
curiosity. he told her a few things: how he had been here a long
time, how he had lived in his van while he built the cabin. but he
didn’t reveal how he hunted. how he killed.
of his hunting, he remarked that he did it on certain nights, &
she’d be safe in the cabin. one evening, he went out before the
moon rose. she did some arranging in her feminine fashion, ate
grapes, & slept.
at dawn, she awoke as he came in. he was somewhat soiled &
sweated from the hunt. he tore the cover off her roughly. this was
the first time he approached her, but she made no effort to
conceal her nakedness.
he came upon her in a controlled savagery; his hands groping her
willing flesh, his mouth biting without wounding, as she felt a
strange heat. she opened her legs, & he grunted as he entered her.
she was stunned by the depth & girth of his impaling, so much so
that she wept for the wonder of it.
as she rocked with his rhythm, she felt utterly desired. & beyond
that, she felt splendorous quivers sparking in her dew-dropped
petals, a previously undiscovered benevolence. her tears assured her
that, at last, she was a true woman.
she caressed him firmly as he released his passion, & when he did,
he roared! after moments, he held her tightly & whispered words he
never expected to say, an endearment she never hoped to hear –
simply & amazingly this: I love you.
and so it went. she understood that in time the fierce identity of the
beast that ruled him might destroy her,
but she knew, she would never leave him…
(Artist unknown)
Published 26th Apr 2016
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likes 15
reading list entries 3
comments 13
reads 1614
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
26th Apr 2016 9:53pm
26th Apr 2016 10:55pm
A well told tale, very moving at the end. It took a beast to teach her passion and a man to love her. Which one prevails remains to be seen but she can live or die appreciated, not abandoned. Fine work.
26th Apr 2016 11:09pm
The poem give much indepth of a woman's needed depth
in more ways that one, of course. Some seek gold and
silver, but his woman gave of herself to the brutish man
with no expectations whatsoever except she would just
give the man what he wanted, but soon she was absorbed
completely with him. Loved this one a lot!
in more ways that one, of course. Some seek gold and
silver, but his woman gave of herself to the brutish man
with no expectations whatsoever except she would just
give the man what he wanted, but soon she was absorbed
completely with him. Loved this one a lot!
27th Apr 2016 4:41am
oh John love this heated, primal love poem..
let the beast in you reign..
love Crimsin
let the beast in you reign..
love Crimsin
27th Apr 2016 1:20pm
Moving. Powerful.
A beast is right. Seems like those who fully embrace their complete nature are best at truly being honest with another soul.
From your tales of whores and soldiers and, now, this Nuit Du Loup you always bring out the humanity and the normalness of making the most of each situation without overanalyzing. Your pieces have a sorta Zen feel to them .
Well done, Sir . Well done
A beast is right. Seems like those who fully embrace their complete nature are best at truly being honest with another soul.
From your tales of whores and soldiers and, now, this Nuit Du Loup you always bring out the humanity and the normalness of making the most of each situation without overanalyzing. Your pieces have a sorta Zen feel to them .
Well done, Sir . Well done
Anonymous
28th Apr 2016 4:31am
Sir John, this is amazing....sheer brilliance....speechless...I always love when you write with primal pen....With love always - Taryn xoxo
28th Apr 2016 5:25am
beautiful read..
i don't what it is but it lead me from the beginning to find what happens to her :)
i don't what it is but it lead me from the beginning to find what happens to her :)
28th Apr 2016 7:32am
some things are inescapable
when lambs lie with wolves ...
... it's a beautiful slaughter
when lambs lie with wolves ...
... it's a beautiful slaughter
Anonymous
28th Apr 2016 9:21am
Lay me open Sir,darling, babe
transfusing and felt.
Words are held in captivity
'
transfusing and felt.
Words are held in captivity
'
Oh my,what a remarkable read..
Bravo,to you and (unknown)
Your imagery is wonderful,
and that pic is too.
-j
Bravo,to you and (unknown)
Your imagery is wonderful,
and that pic is too.
-j
"as she rocked with his rhythm, she felt utterly desired. & beyond
that, she felt splendorous quivers sparking in her dew-dropped
petals, a previously undiscovered benevolence. her tears assured her
that, at last, she was a true woman."
I believe that the tone of my recent poems would explain why these lines grasped my insides... Beautiful write as always, sir.
Reminded me of a beloved story I read and a quote I read online: "The wolf recognized the wildness in her. She was not afraid."
that, she felt splendorous quivers sparking in her dew-dropped
petals, a previously undiscovered benevolence. her tears assured her
that, at last, she was a true woman."
I believe that the tone of my recent poems would explain why these lines grasped my insides... Beautiful write as always, sir.
Reminded me of a beloved story I read and a quote I read online: "The wolf recognized the wildness in her. She was not afraid."
5th May 2016 9:11am
Still no words,
You're knights swords stay sharpened to
collop me open, do they not?
Ah, such a hard swallower.
-Howlings
You're knights swords stay sharpened to
collop me open, do they not?
Ah, such a hard swallower.
-Howlings
1st Jul 2016 8:58am
