[open] Can you hear what I hear?

[Pentecost]

Do you want to know why I use a knife?
Guns are too quick. You can't savor all the...
little emotions. In... You see, in their
last moments, people show you who they
really are. So, in a way, I know your friends
better than you ever did.

I know she feels it; like we were meant to cross paths. I feel it as she radiates heat that I swear I can feel from here. I see it as her eyes dart hastily away from my grip, as if one more second might leave her exposed. I hear it in her creamy-smooth voice that purred into my ears. She reminds me of the doe I saw earlier this morning. It’s delicate frame, lean and athletic with soft features and big, round eyes. How it lifted its head calmly, with poise to observe my intrusion. Her ease in turning away, before disappearing into the fog. Beautiful, natural, captivating. I feel my heart pull as her mood shifts to match my own, as if to catch her heart from falling as low—hopeful to save her before her face faded from a shimmering bliss to a dulled somber. “Don’t apologize,” I whisper in a silvery hum, “you are the reason my spell of overcast has been broken by the shine of you.” I wonder—momentarily—what she means next, partially lost in her voice that reminds me of pattering rain on a warm day mid-summer. She burns others and I feel for her, my neck desperately wanting to reach out if only to exchange a few short breaths. Though, I do not. I do not cross the boundary of things I am unsure of. I destroy everything I touch, and everything that tries to touch me. Oh, I know. It feels so fast. Like only mere minutes ago we were total strangers. But, Leonora, we are not strangers. Call it fate, magic, luck—but, here we are. With stars to connect our paths in ways we were never prepared for. “Leonora,” I say with the voice of wind humming through a hollow cave, “do you feel empathy for those you destroy?”

PENTECOST

WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW WHO WERE COWARDS?

@[leonora]