to be lit up from within
vein by vein
The permission granted via a bump of his head upon her hand, and she was ignited, enervated, an effervescent, wild, entangled thing, made of brambles, thorns, light, air, and fire, the water beneath her feet curling and coiling along skin. The offering there, prominent fin extended over the surface, a jutting, black oeuvre, and on a savage inclination, a nefarious giggle, her palms grasped hold. A gasp followed as he started slow, as the current continued to tickle her toes, as the wind ruffled her hair, as the sea called to her just as wanton as the sand, as the sun, as the sky, and Melita threw back her head, calling, roaring, whooping, freedom sizzling in her skin, in her flesh, in her bones. “Faster!” She cried and howled, a feral banshee, a wicked siren, a Naiad, across undulations of power and prestige, skimming in beckoned calamity and exhilaration, destined to be daring and bold, the silliness, the madness, pouring through her forged grip.to be the sun
MELITA
