bring me your suffering
the rattle roar of broken bones
the rattle roar of broken bones
Melita wouldn’t complain about any storm, not when she was one herself, but still watched as the droplets cascaded, marched, and meleed around and around until he seemed to gain complete control over them.
Then there’s her own to be concerned, and proud of, with an indulgent smirk and snicker layering over her mouth. She might've bowed any other time, just to be readily more obnoxious. The sparking and sizzling snagged and harpooned, charring and scarring, a wobbling beast nearly ready to meet its maker. “Beautiful,” she gave, in response to her own assaults and sieges. “I’m goin’ for the head,” nodding towards the indicated body part, repeating the same movements; snagging at an arrow, notching, and watching for the twist and turn, the slowing of motions due to, well, major wounds, and then firing.
Then there’s her own to be concerned, and proud of, with an indulgent smirk and snicker layering over her mouth. She might've bowed any other time, just to be readily more obnoxious. The sparking and sizzling snagged and harpooned, charring and scarring, a wobbling beast nearly ready to meet its maker. “Beautiful,” she gave, in response to her own assaults and sieges. “I’m goin’ for the head,” nodding towards the indicated body part, repeating the same movements; snagging at an arrow, notching, and watching for the twist and turn, the slowing of motions due to, well, major wounds, and then firing.
the honeybee
Bring me the riot in your heart
angry, wild, and raw
angry, wild, and raw
