07-30-2018, 10:29 PM
there’s no part of scripture that ever prepared you for his hands - hands that map
a communion in the cradle of your hips. hands that kiss hymns up your sides.
and, oh, you put him on his knees.
@[Wishbone]
a communion in the cradle of your hips. hands that kiss hymns up your sides.
Somewhere in her heart of hearts, she knows that she was born of a pure and perfect love between her mother and father. Their devotion knew the warmth of the sun as well as the precious words whispered beneath the moonlight. Still, she tells herself that her father was scum and that he deserved to burn for bringing life into the world after her mother passed. He tried to reason with her, to tell her that he felt so hollow he might crumble in on himself without Fleshlip to fill the void of his life once more. But the barbed girl does not allow pity to ever weaken her and so she cursed him in a fit of rage. Even now she dreams of the pain she would bestow upon him, though the words never find her lips. She lets his name die in her memories of him.
Her bright brown eyes remain locked on anything and everything in the distance when she offers her opinion on the strange relationship she shared with the past queens. Again, her cheeks grow warm but she’s thankful that the subject has evolved into something more comfortable already. Laughter finds her voice when Wishbone also sidesteps the subject, and the sound is oddly warm for someone who seems so cold. She has only ever had one face to conjure up in her memories and it might make her head swim in confusion to take multiple possible lovers.
She sees Wishbone search her face in her peripheral vision and she turns to match her stare. Her gaze is bold, unyielding as she begins to grow comfortable in the queen’s presence now. The idea of taking a new partner has not occurred to her yet, although the other girl seems eager for her next conquest. The gray girl keeps her heart locked away in some far-off tower where it cannot be stolen away again so easily. (Where it cannot be hurt so easily. She loves too hard and too fast.) If the Leviathan seeks to make its home in her, it will find only an eternal winter to make its nest within.
“Do you fear devotion, Wishbone?” she asks with something like fire behind her gaze now. She seeks only some admission of secrets again, some trust to serve as the foundation for their future – whatever it may hold. Perhaps she has asked too much of her new friend, though. A brief frown flashes across her lips before she speaks again. “Nevermind. Maybe you can tell me another time.”
But she supposes the seed is already planted. They’ll have their fun yet.
Her bright brown eyes remain locked on anything and everything in the distance when she offers her opinion on the strange relationship she shared with the past queens. Again, her cheeks grow warm but she’s thankful that the subject has evolved into something more comfortable already. Laughter finds her voice when Wishbone also sidesteps the subject, and the sound is oddly warm for someone who seems so cold. She has only ever had one face to conjure up in her memories and it might make her head swim in confusion to take multiple possible lovers.
She sees Wishbone search her face in her peripheral vision and she turns to match her stare. Her gaze is bold, unyielding as she begins to grow comfortable in the queen’s presence now. The idea of taking a new partner has not occurred to her yet, although the other girl seems eager for her next conquest. The gray girl keeps her heart locked away in some far-off tower where it cannot be stolen away again so easily. (Where it cannot be hurt so easily. She loves too hard and too fast.) If the Leviathan seeks to make its home in her, it will find only an eternal winter to make its nest within.
“Do you fear devotion, Wishbone?” she asks with something like fire behind her gaze now. She seeks only some admission of secrets again, some trust to serve as the foundation for their future – whatever it may hold. Perhaps she has asked too much of her new friend, though. A brief frown flashes across her lips before she speaks again. “Nevermind. Maybe you can tell me another time.”
But she supposes the seed is already planted. They’ll have their fun yet.
Virgo
he confesses how long he’s looked for a place to worshipand, oh, you put him on his knees.