DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
Perhaps that was best for both then – the Sword had never been one to share in many multitudes of his past, nor did he have intentions of dragging anyone else through the misery. One less moment to dread in a series of discomforts beginning to edge their way over his spine.
“All right,” he obliged, with nothing else left. He sat back in the chair, and eased a long, slow breath through his lungs – maybe some parts mental preparation, other proportions trying to etch over the pending lack of control. A relinquishing of ability, for an instant or more, of permitting someone else to have command over him, was not something Deimos gave often. Jaw clenched, feathering, he closed his eyes, and gave a single nod. “When you are ready.”
{FIN}
“All right,” he obliged, with nothing else left. He sat back in the chair, and eased a long, slow breath through his lungs – maybe some parts mental preparation, other proportions trying to etch over the pending lack of control. A relinquishing of ability, for an instant or more, of permitting someone else to have command over him, was not something Deimos gave often. Jaw clenched, feathering, he closed his eyes, and gave a single nod. “When you are ready.”
{FIN}
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
