i know i need us more than i need me
It must be, I'm sure. Why not at least be beautiful if you cannot be powerful or kind, or even cruel. Make of it what you will if that is all you've got.
"I --" but the words the might follow die in my throat, destined for the one I love whom I cannot access. I do not fight their verdict. For her mouth comes upon me then, lips to skin, the hot spread of her breath a reminder of the warmth I feared long gone. Artificial, my mind hisses. As artificial as the rest, I reply, the whites of my eyes showing as their color rolls into my skull, near delirium claiming me at the feather-light weight of her touch.
"I --" but this time the silence comes by way of Moonlet's own voice, chorded in regular notes but bearing the secretive allure of one undone by the world. I listen to her poeticize the secretion of her tears with attentive ears, though my eyes remain closed. Better to imagine and envision the words she says to me in the fantastic and untouchable darkness of my mind than to see their plainness in the dark of a night soon to turn to day.
I cry for realizing that I want what's in the fairytales but there's a reason they're not real and just stories told to sleepy foals.
My eyes flash open at this statement, as parallel to the running thoughts in my head as any could be in that moment. Yet as I turn to look upon this woman who speaks as though she could read my mind despite her admittance of the opposite, she retreats; behind walls, barriers, protective devices built up in the fantastic darkness of her ownmost inner mind. For this instant I forget the barriers that exist between Moonlet and my dear Iridian, watch them dissolve into one and the same in the single, stomach-sinking moment when I reach. Lunge. Dive to save her from the depths of herself the way I wish I could save myself; head under throat, a song's cry bleeding from between my lips.
More parts of me come to life now than I ever remember before. Or perhaps, parts of myself come alive that have never before.
Where our skin meets -- and it meets in many, many places as I hold her, drag her, beg her to me -- crackles with the intensity of any dying star.
"I want you, Moonlet.
Let that be fairytale enough for us, tonight."
"I --" but the words the might follow die in my throat, destined for the one I love whom I cannot access. I do not fight their verdict. For her mouth comes upon me then, lips to skin, the hot spread of her breath a reminder of the warmth I feared long gone. Artificial, my mind hisses. As artificial as the rest, I reply, the whites of my eyes showing as their color rolls into my skull, near delirium claiming me at the feather-light weight of her touch.
"I --" but this time the silence comes by way of Moonlet's own voice, chorded in regular notes but bearing the secretive allure of one undone by the world. I listen to her poeticize the secretion of her tears with attentive ears, though my eyes remain closed. Better to imagine and envision the words she says to me in the fantastic and untouchable darkness of my mind than to see their plainness in the dark of a night soon to turn to day.
I cry for realizing that I want what's in the fairytales but there's a reason they're not real and just stories told to sleepy foals.
My eyes flash open at this statement, as parallel to the running thoughts in my head as any could be in that moment. Yet as I turn to look upon this woman who speaks as though she could read my mind despite her admittance of the opposite, she retreats; behind walls, barriers, protective devices built up in the fantastic darkness of her ownmost inner mind. For this instant I forget the barriers that exist between Moonlet and my dear Iridian, watch them dissolve into one and the same in the single, stomach-sinking moment when I reach. Lunge. Dive to save her from the depths of herself the way I wish I could save myself; head under throat, a song's cry bleeding from between my lips.
More parts of me come to life now than I ever remember before. Or perhaps, parts of myself come alive that have never before.
Where our skin meets -- and it meets in many, many places as I hold her, drag her, beg her to me -- crackles with the intensity of any dying star.
"I want you, Moonlet.
Let that be fairytale enough for us, tonight."
Indius
I wrote this VERY FAST and it's A MONTH LATE I am so sorry
@[Moonlet]