A visitation… *Writing for WOD*
"She’s got eyes that cut you like a knife and
her lips that taste like sweet red wine
And her pretty legs go to heaven every time.
She got a gentle way that puts me at ease
When she walks in the room I can hardly breathe
Got a devastating smile knock a grown man to his knees.
She’s got whatever it is
It blows me away
She’s everything I want to say to a woman
but I couldn’t find the words to say
She’s got whatever it is
I don’t know what to do
And every time I try and tell her how I feel
it comes out "I love you"
You got whatever it is
You know I’ve never been the type that would ever want to stay
Bring ’em home at night and they’re gone the next day
But that all changed when she walked into my life
And people ask me what it is
I tell them I don’t know
There just something about the woman makes my heart go haywire
And She’s gonna be my wife
She’s got whatever it is
It blows me away
She’s everything I want to say to a woman
but I couldn’t find the words to say
She’s got whatever it is
I don’t know what to do
every time I try and tell her how I feel
it comes out "I love you"
You got whatever it is
Now when she loves love me
Girl that’s how I feel
When she loves me I’m on top of the world
When she loves me I can live forever
When she loves me I am untouchable…"
-Zac Brown Band, "Whatever It Is"
************
Her eyes.
Start with her eyes.
He clenches his fists, ragged nails buried into the flesh of his palms.
Start with her eyes, those beautiful eyes…. grey eyes deep as lake water during a summer storm, shaded and fathomless…. he could have plumbed the depths of her eyes for a year and never reached bottom, never reached the secret place that held her…
His eyelids drop, hooding dark eyes from the glare of the flourescent lights.
Grey eyes above a little snub nose and a smile… her smile, sweet and lingering as roses on a spring breeze. Lips curled softly, begging to be kissed…. lips meant to be kissed, meant to smile, meant to brush a child’s scraped knee in motherly comfort…
A child… his child… his children….
White shows along the bones of his hands, across his knuckles, as his fists clench tighter. Blood seeps from between his fingers.
His children…. holding an infant against the pale flesh of her breast, the child’s cheek rosy against the whiteness of her skin. Her eyes, radiant, as she gazes up at him… Her slender fingers twined with his scarred ones, an ecstasy of opposites…
Broad shoulders tighten, muscles strain under the white canvas of the straitjacket. As he lowers his head, lank black hair falls over a scarred forehead sheened with sweat.
She laughs, her voice airy and sparkling like champagne bubbles bursting on his tongue…
A low growl escapes him as his lips curl, exposing his teeth like an animal. His upper lip writhes as he snarls.
Her hands on him in the darkness, light as a feather’s touch, bringing him to her…
His head snaps back, slamming against the thin padding protecting him from the cinder block beneath. Again. Again. Light streaks across his eyes as he slams his head back once more, bright colors swirling and dancing, darkness bursting along his peripheral vision like the photo negatives of fireworks. A thin red line leaves his left ear, traces the straining tendons of his throat. He shudders.
A voice drifts through the haze of his consciousness; a woman’s voice, melodic and sweet, a nightingale song in a world gone mad.
Her voice…
He opens bloodshot eyes and looks at the woman standing before him, a slim woman in nurses’ scrubs, her dark hair pulled loosely into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She reaches a hand to him as tears fill her eyes, grey eyes deep and fathomless as lake water during a summer storm.
His agonized screams bring the guards running to his door, tranquilizer guns in hand. Two shots fired and he drifts into unconsciousness, his screams fading slowly, dark eyes fixed madly on a spot across the room.
There is no one there.