Skipping With The Hood

It was late September. Everything in the air was combining perfectly the night I met Kyle. Cool breeze, open sky, plenty of leaves adrift in the trees.

I was well on my way down the dark path of the human psyche at the time. My days were spent toying with the fabrication of my mind by feeding it white crystals that turned a liquid when heated and a clear, thick liquid with an extremely potent taste of salt.

They were like the sun and the moon in the year of my dissolution. I held them in glorious admiration, for they aroused incredible manifestations of my desires. Such desires as demon lovers and deadly foes. How I able to look back at those glaring slivers of time and take a deep breath.

Skyclad to the starlight and autumn city air, splashing Kyle in the hot tub outside that first night we were alone in the house.

Taking him into me, body, mind and spirit, but lacking heart. Enchanting him with fantasies and dark poems I wrote long ago and his eyes, fixated upon me.

His features were animalistic and his presence was almost as a wolf coming before me in human form. Excess hair, a darting glance, low whimpering, and even what appeared to be the stub of a tail but was actually his elongated tailbone. Thus I called him a lycanthrope. 

My lycanthrope would come to me under the guise of my Lover and later he would become the image of my lament. 

A week after the equinox was when we first met. The moon was riding to her peak so my influence was increasing, yet near Kyle I felt mystically enthralled and eager to use my power to please.

No doubt we certainly pleased eachother and gave up ourselves as if by some sacrificial pledge to become something more than the quick passing of two wolves in the night.

So it was that I took him home with me and.then we played between the sheets until an ominous sunrise opened its eye upon us through the window. I saw the end nearer than I had known.

"Isn't that romantic?" He asked. I could only lie to him that it was. Anything I would have said to him to make every moment seem perfect.

He never left for nearly two full tides of the moon, except to conduct business and cheap hustles around the city. Business was one of those things I wish he didn't bring in to my home. But things have their way of creeping their way in from the shadows and subtle movements.

Keeping secrets was our fatal flaw. Before it fell apart, we created love affairs with crystal and cash. He protected me from my enemies only to become the worst enemy. He was like loving the dead. He was a reflection of my own inner suffering. My Addict Self inside him and his inside me. Aye, he was my addiction staring back at me. A reflection of me. I loved.