[open] i got a secret starting to rust

[Iris]

all things are poisons

for there is nothing without poisonous qualities.

She watches as comprehension finds him, and then as he calls the poison out of the ground to himself. The poison seems like the kiss of a long lost lover to him, and she watches with interest and a slight grin. ”What’s it feel like?” she asks? The pain, or perhaps luxury, of her poison is not something she can experience, immune to it as she is. She can hurt in a way she’ll never comprehend, for it does not hurt her in return. Perhaps it should, perhaps that would be appropriate penance for all the pain she leaves in her wake. Would she mind? Would she use her power at such a cost? It’s hard to be certain, though she thinks she still would.

He releases the poison and she calls it back to herself, letting it settle back into her blood and bones, a piece of her returned. The grass around her does not come back to life. She could remove poison, but she could not undo its damage. Not that she would, anyway. Not when she’d been the one to cause it in the first place. Besides, sometimes things need to die in order to come back stronger.

He moves toward her, and she does not flinch, her amber eyes watching him without fear. "I was young, and bored. It seemed like a useful hobby.” As the fog draws around them, she finds a strange sense of comfort in the isolation, as if for one brief moment she might actually be alone. That’s not something she has ever known - she can dull the ghosts, but she cannot shut them out. She cannot leave them behind, a lesson she learned early in life. They did not appreciate her going away entirely, and so, she has stopped trying. But here, in this moment, they are strangely still.

it is only the dose that matters

iris

photo by cottonbro

@ jamie