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Mitzi Kay Jackson

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Beautiful Black Dove
By Mitzi Kay Jackson
Saturday, October 27, 2007

Rated "PG13" by the Author.

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Recent stories by Mitzi Kay Jackson
· Shadows in Time
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           >> View all 27

I went to him thinking he is the most beautiful black angel I have ever seen warm til he got me close than sucked it all from me tyme after tyme

            The wind blows wild on her skin, she wants to wrap her arms around herself, but she knows she desevres this. The earth is ending beneath her bare feet and she can hear the sea screaming. Her dress is falling from her flesh much rather watch the show, just like footprints left in the sky she knows some one is watching and underneath her breath past the blocked logic she is already praying for forgiveness. Without hesataion she walks right off the cliff falling into clouds rushing by to fast to taste them and the air is getting caugth in her throat trying to force her to remember. The air twist her to where the last thing she sees is the clouds that she has passed through. and she falls unconcious before her body smacks the screaming sea right in her face. It carry her for awhile before taking her into her bosom, where even in her state she knows she will be home soon now. She had walked along way finally realizing all her life had prepared her for this moment. This moment when she needed strength, focus, where she wasn't bothered by the silence of being alone. "Please I don't want to remember, I just want to enter."

         It all comes back to her in flashes, like slide shows images and names and feelings changing like rain in sunlight it would be painful if the needle stings wasn't still on her skin. Then he appears, from out of nowhere in her space erupt awakening.

         He covered her lips stripped her from all her thoughts. Then left her cold and naked on the shore covered with swallow grass and rocks, she could feel them coming. Wrapping her, lifting her, rushing her. She prayed eyes stay closed, heart don't beat again, give to someone who needs it. She could feel him sneaking through her window she knows his presence from anyone and anything and she hates him. He knows she knows he is there and it tickles him. He knows she knows that there is no escaping him at all...

    He will never stop touching her, loving her, keeping her until his time is over. Then she could do whatever she wanted, only then can she kill herself and he would reclaim her then when she comes. He will take the earth and re-skin her, with the warmness of it all keeping her youthful, dig roots from the trees and cover her scalp then drench them in almond oil and honey to keep her locks soft and playful. He will shape her like sand wet and lay her under him.

   She uttered her hopes and dreams to the wrong one. She didn't know he had ideas of his own.  "Women" he thought to himself what a waste of brain cells, they don't need them all they need to know is the difference between the two men and women "wo" they was meant to carry the woes of the world, hadn't they all figured that out yet. Just thinking it angered him. This silly little rabbit will be mine, till I'm gone and as soon as she is well enough to understand this i will punish her. Punish her for even trying to end her so called suffering and leaving me with feelings built for a women. I must teach her that I am all man and demand to be treated as nothing less! Even if he have to cut her heart out again and place it into another she will be his again forever and for always.

His Beautiful Black Dove.

    He can taste the sweetness of her blood, he has to close his eyes to not get that feeling in is man parts, looking at her does that to him asleep, when she is awake, in pain crying and wanting to smile in her heart. His blood flows to the thought of her breast moving up and down and it angers him to have to take another because she is not availble to him. How it hurts him to hurt someone he cares very little for. A waste of a good kill another mans work. But like now his blood was too hot to stop himself.

     He left her side and saw a vision, a young succulent piece strolling as if no one had ever warned her about going to see grandma in the nighttime. Quickly swooping her up and plunging himself into her before she could even realize what was happening. She would drown in herself but only after I take all that is needed, after i plunge myself in this ungreatful little pig. She should of been at home pleasing the man that made her or the one he handed her off to but no she out here walking unsupervised, unattented probaly after him telling her it wasn't safe. He exploded into a billion pieces before letting her fall to her death short fall head held up by his powerful grip, then letting it hit the ground.

       He returns to her, the real one and kiss her cheek. Three a night while she is gone laying safe and lazy. It might be four tonight the thought of her getting well and him breaking her in all over again is starting his blood to boil again and of course it is always cow out here, chickens to pluck til she comes back to him. Remembering her scream and how her womb tried to forbid him skin shinning like a crow. How could she even conceive that he would let her free, once bitten by her eyes soft big and spilling all out on to her face she needed me. Come wanting roots to keep her man safe, out of arms way. Know one told her where to find him, she fall upon his door crying, she gave herself up for that piece of man she was trying to save I told her it was the price and she paid, now she belongs to me. And yes I let him live but only now without her and lyfe I know for him is not worth living I can feel it in his bone that he misses her not even the love of another can wake him from his drunken stupor. Know I will keep him alive too just because his suffering amuse me. Just because his suffering is the price for having her first, lonely dog! He have touched her I let him suffer and I wait for her to return to me.


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Reviewed by Muhammad Al Mahdi 3/8/2009
It's a grand picture, an in-depth study of love, yes love -one may be tempted to say something negating, something "what we take love to be"- but I think love is perhaps exactly this. With a life that has made me an expert in the violent, merciless, militant aspects of love, I tend to take ambivalence to be the core of it. Destruction is not the desire of the lover but the inherent consequence of the act of loving, of the nature and dynamics of love. It is either the destruction of the self or that of another. Human beings, in these respects, are creatures with few choices. Or?
Reviewed by Sandra Mushi 12/28/2007
Mysterious. Captivation. Dark.

Well penned and expressed, Mitzi.

God bless,

Reviewed by Ronald Hull 11/5/2007
Darker than dark, stripped from the soul.

Reviewed by Felix Perry 10/27/2007
Well penned my friend and certainly captures the agony of mental abuse that comes with loving and losing.

Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 10/27/2007
Outstanding story you have penned, Mitzi; very well written! BRAVA!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :)
Reviewed by David Perry 10/27/2007
Remarkable writing. Violent and sad at one time. Yes, I can see Angelou's influence, but only in the depth and humanity. Your writing is fresh and original. David.
Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan 10/27/2007
an interesting write-tragic but interesting

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