A Few Tidy Thoughts

You bite your lip because you like the taste of your skin. You bite it because you want the feel of tugging at your face. You bite your lip when you are thinking, when you are nervous or anxious or excited. You bite your lip without even realizing it. Tonight you bite for all these reasons.
Your hands are thick and heavy, darker now that they are caked with dirt. You admire them, their size, the work they have helped you accomplish. You have dug such a magnificent hole, so neat and tidy. Long enough for her, wide enough for him. This is good work.
You lick clean the mud from your palms, between your fingers, you savor the taste. This is your recipe of victory. You lick the blood from her pale ear, from his bristly neck. You craved for this taste. The sour sweat, salty blood, cold skin. This was worth the work, worth the time, worth the messy fight. Your lips touch their golden hair, a final kiss goodbye. You have fallen in love with their frozen face, stone touches. They are your trophy's of passion, proof of power, they are your old lovers, old friends, old memories. They are yours.
You will miss them, but tonight you must put them away, clean up your mess, tidiness is always important. So your hands help you again. They are strong and can pick him up to drop into the hole. Your hands are quick and steady as they shovel back in the dirt. Your hands are great, they always finish a job.
You finally leave, and walk away. Almost the same as you came, but now you do not bite your lips, you cannot. Now your lips are spread wide, now your lips are smiling.