Porphyria's Lover
My rain-soaked dress stuck to my leg and flopped wetly against my calf as I moved through the moor. Darkness had settled in long before, but billowing dark clouds smothered me like layers of smoke, covering the stars, it was these clouds that made the rain look almost atramentous and dulled the moon's glowing beauty. I waded through the mud that clung to my stockings and filled my shoes. I struggled across the moor, panting, choking on air. I rested for a moment and it was then that I saw the light, dim, yet it was there. It gave me renewed hope and though I was still tired I hurried towards it, nearly running and making my heart beat more fiercely in my chest. It was almost a quarter of an hour before I got to the cabin from whence the light came.
The door opened, my lover stood there, arms outstretched, waiting to greet me in his warm embrace. I wrapped my arms around him; more conscious now of how wet I was in the delicate warmth of our rendezvous point. I felt safe in his arms and I felt the warmth rise in me, I felt the blood warm in my veins…I felt love for him and my heart beat the more strongly with it.
"You're shivering, Porphyria, my dearest." He murmured, wrapping a shawl around my trembling shoulders, I loved his touch, it sent a tingle through my body, and more I loved the sound of his voice as he said my name, the seductive roll of his tongue and the way he dwelt on each syllable a moment before moving on to the next.
I changed into another frock and went about tending the fire despite my beloved's protests. The fire was soon blazing, but tiredness had crept in, like a snake, small and fast and I was too weak now to fight it off so instead I lay against my sweetheart and watched the dancing flames as he kissed my neck, each individual peck like a flame in itself, delightful and torturous. I yearned to kiss him back and so turned my head to receive the kiss I most desired, he obliged me, kissing me on my lips lightly at first and then with more strength, I kissed him back in my own gentle way, hot flushes coming to my cheeks.
The roses from our kiss still dwelt in Porphyria's cheeks and her eyes were still bright and dancing from it. Her flaxen hair fell in tangled curls about her face and there was framed such a picture of beauty and innocence. I was ceased with the desire to capture it forever. Gently I took a thick rope of her hair and twisted it carefully. I looked at Porphyria, still smiling softly, still beautiful, half-asleep and twisted the braid around her neck and pulled. She did not struggle in fact the same expression was still frozen on her face. When I unravelled the braid and placed it back where it had first lay her face was still the perfect picture of innocence. She was still perfect.
We lay there for many hours, I kissed her and ran my hands along her body and she smiled and flushed.
I'll love you forever, my darling, my dearest…
A/N: Based on the poem by Robert Browning...I hope I have done it justice. The poem can be found at spaces must be removed to view the website: http:www . bartleby . com/101/720 . html