[private] and when I break it's in a million pieces, Elio

[Hourglass]

She isn’t particularly fond of winter, she has decided. She doesn’t like the way it makes her glass feel like ice; cold and impersonal, unforgiving to someone else’s touch. Sometimes in the early morning, there were frosted designs etched into her skin, and that was really the only delight she found in this time of year. The designs didn’t last though, often faded away by mid-morning, leaving behind smooth, copper-colored glass. If the sun was unobstructed by clouds long enough she could bask in the rays until her glass skin grew warm, like a reptile on a rock. She would close her eyes and pretend it was spring, and sometimes she was so good at pretending that she was surprised to open her eyes to snow and not wildflowers.

The setting sun is a glare against that glass, and she looks bright and burning walking through the snow – a red and yellow-glinting flame on a blanket of white.

She glances up at the sinking sun, and already she can feel the warmth her skin had gathered over the course of the day slowly begin to fade away. “Can’t you stay just a little longer?” She asks it, her voice a whispered longing, but there is a smile on her face. She knows the sun cannot stay, and she knows that the cold night will not last forever. She will survive it, as she always has, and knows that every frigid night brings her closer to spring.

When she brings her gaze back to ground level she does not look at the watercolors streaked across the sky, but instead to the young stallion standing beneath a tree. He reminds her of summer; pale like prairie grass and red like a setting sun. She wants to curl against him because he looks warm, and she stops just short of doing that. “Hi,” she says, and though she speaks softly her voice still sounds clear and lilting in her glass mouth, her lilac eyes bright. “Mind some company?”

 

I don’t believe that anybody
feels the way I do about you now

H  O  U  R  G  L  A S S

@[elio]