A Deep Love

Ron Koppelberger

A Deep Love

“I’m alive with you baby,” Straw Berkley whispered into her ear, “ Alive and born again with you my love.” She grinned in an askew sort of manner and shifted on the leather sofa. A sticky squishing sound from beneath her shifting figure broke the moment, like Velcro peeling away from Velcro and a mouth full of swishing spit. “My eyes for you darling, my soul and my captured heart baby.” Straw said in earnest desire.
The book lay open between them. She sighed and chortled in a strange gleeful passion.
“ Everything for you my love .” he exclaimed to her in easy waves of affection. She glanced at the open book between them and a look of fear crossed her face in misshapen dilemma. Straw paused and she said nothing as she smacked her lips and clicked her tongue against her pointed teeth.
The moment was a cool breath between them and as the twilight glow of an ancient sun and the divide between night and day pierced the tiny living rooms dusty window blinds, Straw had a moment of obliging trepidation. She waved her arms in gentle airs of dance , flowing in angled difference to the space that separated them.
The bloody red hue of her gold rimmed irises flittered and swam as she moved her cracked leathery lips. The book, perhaps he had made a mistake. Straw looked at her gelatinous frame and her long flowing strands of hair, silvery corn silk, mirror like, “ Maybe we should take our time in this relationship thing.” he said having a few second thoughts. Her teeth glimmered razor sharp, dripping a snot like saliva onto the open book.
He considered, maybe his wish, his wish for love and ecstasies unbidden had been a hasty decision.
She opened her mouth and a great spraying geyser of scarlet splashed him from head to the tips of his sneakers. He wiped his face noting the moth dancing near the ceiling fan above them. She waved her numerous arms and screamed a shrill Banshee like scream. Her legs, decaying in degrees, shifted to lift her giant frame and she stood hunched in amorous appreciation for Straw.
As her scaled tongue darted out to taste Straws lips , he understood the depth of his mistake. Screaming in fear he grabbed for the ancient book, the Legend of Demonic. As his fingers traced the skin of the volume in bloody trails of desperation, she embraced him and took him as her husband.
“Baby,” she gurgled between his screams, “….my love and my beautiful salvation.”