We Had A Torrid Love Affair, Until His Dreams Of Death Silenced It

Along the shores and past the sea, the girl lies amongst the rocks. Not jagged, the black shreds of volcanoes long since gone – receded into the earths memory.

Adorned in softest rags of deepest darkness and stray strands of seaweed, wet and heavy she lay unmoving. Bedecked by sand and guarded closely by overeager crustaceans, the smooth alabaster belied the secret her body hid.

Dark and angry waves of the sea, green-black with envy, continued reaching in vein. As one who searches for some long lost items within. The sky, bewitched, held darkest clouds yet still the world was bright – as on a merely overcast day.

The vivid green of the forest further up the beach was muted. And unholy silence hushed the surrounding space. The birds that flew were silent as death’s harbingers, and the sea itself hushed.

Then she opened her eyes…

Pardon The Way That I Stare

The boy is sitting there. The girl sits there too. But the boy does not see the girl; he is too concerned with the future. Tomorrow’s tomorrow’s tomorrow.

THERE IS NO TOMORROW FOR THE GIRL.

Gollum hollow, filled to bursting with that achy emptiness – thick and suffocating, self replicating cotton pushing at the seams. She’s memorizing every inch of him [the way vampires do veins – softly humming highways of life]. She could crawl millions of miles across his flesh and never be finished. Some glorious puzzle box she’s too terrified to touch.

CAUTION: FRAGILE

That conflagration blazing in her distal digits caused violent seizing, swiftly hidden beneath idle limbs.

How long would this
[THIRST NECESSITY CRAVING WANT HUNGER YEARNING NEED]
go unrequited?
How much longer could she bear it?

Implosion on the horizon, she inhaled deeply – vain endeavor to impart the effortlessly achievable portion of him within her. Mournful, the howl rolling up her throat - swiftly stifled, eruption no more than a whimper.

Whether politely ignored or blatant indifference, lack of acknowledgment proved damaging. Obvious inadequacy spurned her to motion. She could no more tell if he loved her than if he hated her; worse was the utter lack of paths to convey her intentions.

But she could RUN.

Rising like the night she flowed into kinetics, pounding flesh to earth until the night had evaporated and acid seared her veins.