Fragment #28 – Chocolat

Chunk!
A little brown square between my fingers. A small brown cut running on my palm. I’m bleeding chocolate again. The egg is broken now; I can feel the bitter-sugary taste running on my palate. A brown river runs down my throat. My tongue hits my palate once again, slither through my front teeth, looking for some more tasting pleasure. It’s Jon’s hand which goes to my lips, caress them, and part them, bringing another chunk of chocolate on my tongue as a priest would bring a wafer.
In my head I would whisper, ainsi soit-il. Sanctified chunk of chocolate, part of a body which would fill my own. This part of my remission I accept to swallow. I accept the brown cuts it does to my hand, the brown bruises that grows as the chocolate melts in my palms. Those wounds I accept as the Christ accepted the whips of the Romans, and their spits. I accept to lie on the bed, as Jon harms my body with chocolate insults, chocolate bruises and chocolate cuts. This is my body offered to the multitude, the valley of my back circled by the mountains of my shoulders and bum. The sweetness has left my mouth, only the bitterness stays.
Tears trouble my vision.
Notre Père qui êtes aux cieux, que Votre nom soit sanctifié, que Votre règne arrive…
Hands run down my back, fondling my sores, my bruises, my cuts. Lips join them, stroking wetly my back. A gentle cocoon of saliva envelopes me, healing my body with love. My bruises and cuts disappear as Jonathan swallows them. My dolor wolfed by the man of my life. My back turns as clear as baby’s skin as Jon swallows the Evil inside me.
I’m white pure again, glowing of chastity.
I turn round and whisper in Jon’s ear.
“Would you make love to me?”
His eyelids slowly blink, in a silent nodding.
Oh, Lord, I beg you…
Délivre-nous du Mal.