she entered his folded reams, that confused, bitter, brilliant space...

Gracefully, like swelling music or good massage. Tender tendrils smoothing the discordant ropes. Sweet tickling
tongue lapping, tugging, plunging, insistant, even defiant sometimes, yet only to the point, that special perfect point
between pleasure and pain, trust and the forever uncertainty of his oscillating mind.

Quiet, dauntless, how stubbornly she found the heart of the matter, stretching, spreading, widening, wiggling loose knots...
Gentle, playful-though increasingly distraught-she witnessed his wretched, stupid frenzied furor and it spread her wider, disclosing sacred ground and inviting,
welcoming him in through her strong tears. Demonstrating again how he could trust her. Ceaselessly illustrating it, giving him her art, her garden's bounty, her wild whipping braids, her passionate mouth, surging creative open body, strong and long and true.

Lashing out didn't break her. Friction melted stricken lines of tension and smarting red marks blushed. Shameless, she begged for more. Teasing boldly, serving proudly, giving herself wholly up to him. There was simply no stopping her, no withholding the flow, the vulnerable, powerful force of her.

She never played it cool. She meant it when she said she was his and she said it again and again throughout the doubtstorms, the intimate push and pull, tug of war between intimacy, antagonism and freedom, the evasions, the malevolent ominous drama unfolding, fracturing their lives.

She said it even as he misfired for the last time, his excruciating refusal overwhelming all her endeavors, rending, rendering the truth invalid.
But her legs thickened, pulse quickened, diving, driving deep, enduring the wrath of his going, the havoc wreaked. She foundering,
found untapped sources-buried, tangled perhaps, yet fluent, rooted in the bones of the earth.

No brutal ending, no illicit strategy, no monstrous betrayal will ever vanquish this uncommon, indomitable,
womans heart.