Arabesque etchings surrounded the pause in her pupil, kaleidascaping past her porcelain countenance, reaching elsewhere without effort, without thought. The coppers in her hair faintly took the sun by its golden strand, with a hazing, quivering hand, and slightly smiling as her bare feet crunched beneath dead leaves, wet grass, pine needles, whilst the smell of tobacco and warm vanilla guided the way. Cedar and patchouli with, at times, oakmoss grazed upon her chin. The blurring webs of silhouetted branches contrasting the flowing flame, that was her long hair, exhaled with a breath of juniper berries, pepper, vetiver,musk, amber, basil and jasmine as she ran. Her heart beat like a tribal drum.
The black swan on the lake, turned its head slower than any eye could detect; It’s iridescent feathers spread like a million fingers, ripples spread forth and tapped gently the edges of the grass as it drunk. The orange and brown leaves drifted out with calm resolve. A skipping brush stroke across a hued pink sky turned and transformed into the words she had longed to hear all of her life, the phrase that lacerated profoundly past the postulation she had fallen prey to, and she fell on her knees–instantly ripping them open and feeding the fields that housed her. Her blood drowning the green and gasping blades, her hands on her face providing no comfort. Tears cutting hot with dirt into her cheeks, as she mumbled the phrase in the heavens with a trembling tongue–knowing she was now in hell.
The moon had left its dark side and hid behind the fog that hovered. Wailing wolves wondered. Pine trees stood quietly the wanton witnesses. And time communed with the vault, the vault that is the heavens and azurely they concurred–far too fair this fawning maiden, far too faint her neck did lean, almost breaking, almost taking, the breath of life left in so obscene.
The winds rushed in chillingly and spoke their peace…
“Her words are the words of mortals and now she knows the lofty language…the language that broke the cold black marble, the words that rend veils in two, these words that shan’t be spoken, now surely have infected you.”
With puffy eyes she turned and looked at you–the you that sees herself in her…sore from sobbing and body tired of convulsing, she raised her face and calmly parting, her soft-pink lips opened like a treasure chest, and pushing forth the fervent phrase:
…”I need you.”