The Soulful Atom

A rip here, a scratch there.. spilling black and blue..
A slap and a strangle painted red..
White skin blotched with colors.. All but that of love..
Or maybe this is love, a love so profound it goes beyond gentle..
A love so strong it has to be violent..
A love so deep it needs to dig deep into the flesh with nails till it draws out the blood flowing in veins..
A love that wants to see for its own eyes, the truth in the other's by gauging it out..
Its a love with all the shades of all colors, not just grey, so much that it has turned pitch black.
A torn pink lip here, a bruised blue hip there.
A gash on the creamy back here, a pinch on the murky sack there.
There is no pleasure without these colors now, they ought to flow.
A grip of the neck, a twist of the wrist.
A stone cold bare floor is what they look for, not a bed of roses.
A love that is naked and stripped to the core of existence, not just some mushy words on the surface.
They see each other through and through, robbed of any masks and labels they ever had.
They see one another in each other, as if one is possessed by the other.
They lay crumpled embracing long after, licking each others wounds, and the thirst boiling, barely beneath the surface, ready to pounce out and spew its colors, any moment.
For he is a sadist.
And she a masochist.
A match made in heaven?
One would think so, since opposites are meant to attract.