Overslept by Judith Kingston

The world had changed.

It was full of roaring noise.
The sky was grey
and her lungs ached
with the effort of drawing breath.

Reluctantly her lashes lifted
to reveal the hungry eyes
of the man –
dripping, dishevelled,
strange-looking clothes
around his feet
– who had woken her.

Covertly he had crept closer
to her limp body
put a hand on her skin

then – boldly now, 
lust overtaking shame –
took what he wanted 
in hurried gasps.

She was buried too deep.
Her dreams red and tangled in briar,
resistance pushing the sting
deeper in and drawing 
blood.

When he slipped out
flushed and sweating
undone
he thought her lips 
suggested a parting kiss-

A thank-you.

The world had changed
between the sharp scratch
and the kiss that took her breath,

filling her with the taste
of a rotting banquet
for half forgotten guests,
composting roses and decay.

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Judith Kingston writes poetry, fiction, plays and shopping lists. Her work has appeared in a number of magazines including Barren Magazine, Riggwelter and Kissing Dynamite as well as the Fly on the Wall Press Anthology Persona non Grata. You can find her stealth poetry photos on Instagram: @judith_kingston and on Twitter you can find her wondering why all the snacks are gone: @judithkingston.