the moth on your porch

[Engelsfors]

Drink thy poison lightly dear, ♦♢♦ I had an uncanny ability on being the shrewd one at reading others; the way their jaw tensed just before a lie, the way their eyes glazed over for that fleeting second when they were truly saddened by what was said, but made out it was all fine. The droop in the shoulders, a well placed twitch of muscle. Being in a large herd when I was a young filly, it was good for something. But most of the time, I was learning how to ward off the masculine eyes, that lingered too long over my young, impressionable curves. I was too young and what they thought, too naive, but their reality was harsh and quite painful in the end. And that was the day that most learnt to not underestimate the golden mare, and her shrewd eyes, ever watchful, ever knowing. I've noticed early on that this spotted mare is uncomfortable; as though looking over her shoulder and jumping at the sight of a shifting shadow. I watched her, silently, analysing her. The way she chewed her tongue, the flicker of an ear. She was definitely running from something, or someone, and it if it were right there, hiding in the underbrush, waiting. 'I don't recommend running from your past, you know.' my infection is cool, crisp and very transparent. my willowy limbs twist and move, gentle thuds knocking the ground as I move inches across the loam, watching, analysing. I'm careful though to not get too near, if she was indeed hanging on the promise of chase, she could easily sway the other way. I remain resolute though, creamy tresses, gossamer and ash ridden, fall over my crystalline blue eyes. 'Naoi. Pleasure.' crisply cool, black magic slowly weaving lulling spells into the warm dawn air. I listen, stepping forward, creaking almost. 'It's no fun, being part of nowhere. I know somewhere where it would be delightful.' perhaps sounding ominous, mayhems menacing, but my spellbinding voice, a soft lilt, was calm and cool. My silver tongue, finely polished. 'We have great sentinel trees, perfect for hiding, if you so wish to continue running and... concealing yourself from something... or someone.' I pause then, stalking away a little, gliding my golden plume over my loins. Sapphire gems never leaving Naoi. 'I don't recommend hiding and running though. It always catches up to you in the end, when you least expect it.' earnest and august. my whimsical words shed spires of moonlight upon a darkened spot, gentle, gentle. 'The Chamber. It allows a clarity to sweep your mind, and then, then you can really see what you want to see, do what you want to do.' ♦♢♦ there are deeper and darker things than you; professor of the chamber

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