sabra –

[Sabra]

Sabra

I smirk beneath the weight of her dissector's gaze, returning it with one of my own. Eyes like shards of ice glittering in the sun trace her from maw to tail, taking in the stained and sunfaded hide that stretches over a body with more bone than meat to it. A mirror of my own worn out frame. 

I am lucky though. My scars fade into flickering webs of lightning in my skin. They glimmer along the bites and stabs, the rakes and claws that have accumulated over the years, turning once bloody wounds into a map of electric silver-blue that runs like cracks in my opaline hair. Beauty from pain. But beautiful or not, they are scars still, and like the woman before me, there are far too many of them. 

Two thin echoes of the grand women we might once have been, in other lives. Might still be, if I play my cards right. My wings rustle by my sides as she returns my jibe, notably not answering in the process. My head tips to one side, like a bird trying to determine if the thing she's come across is worth eating or not. It's a mirror of the way she's looking at me. My weight shifts, and with it sways the rod I'm pierced with. 

"Sabra," I say, answering the question she hasn't asked. My lips part in a glittering smile, one that carries no warmth. It is as hard and as beautiful as the crystals I resemble, cold and clean. "And you are? Or are you merely some shabby ghost haunting me now." She could be, for all her aged looks. The leftover imprint of a mare long gone, another layer to the creeping voices in my head. That would not surprise me in the least.

I wanna be Immortal, like a God in the sky


I wanna be a silk flower, like I'm never gonna die

Photo by Kareva Margarita


@[City]