DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
Did she know? Did it matter? He shook his head and watched the stars and clouds come with it, the movement and motion enough to make him shiver and shudder again – craving warmth, the flames in his hands suddenly bursting out, beatific proportions that could’ve been out of control, but he breathed life into them and his eyes skimmed over their intrepid dance. Some formed patterns of mountains, and some were rivers, and some were decadent portions of voids and vices. Some seemed tragic and forlorn. Some were deadly opuses.His gaze went back to her as she spoke, searching for the other blackened eaves, the very nature of souls intertwined and bound and cherished; cranium, skull, tilting, as if he was seeing her for the first time. He thought about asking her for a book, for a dance in the dark.
“She is not lost. She is there too.” And he pointed in the sanction of her chest, where he knew her heart resounded, pulsed, because he’d once memorized the sounds. “She was always like the fire. My favorite Harpy.” A sad smile wrapped around his mouth, his lips, and his gaze went back to the embers, the cinders, in his palms – made them twitch and coil until they were like the favored daughter, cast into her likeness, feathers rising, rising, rising like a phoenix.
“You said you were not doing that anymore.” A shrug, wondering just how far promises yielded, and what they’d become. “There are so many missing parts.” The inferno twisted and pulled, the bird trying to escape and flee from him again. “Maybe I am not supposed to be whole.”
It’d be too much. Too little. “But it would be nice to find her.”
Unite and spread the heart apart
