Melita
yes, yes, I am wild
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
I am the wind that makes breathing hard
“Exactly! Because what fools would travel all the way out here?” Uttered with the brightest, broadest grin, fully aware at what she was calling them. She twirled up ahead, lingering beneath the creepy, crawling vines for a moment, as if gesturing them on an emboldened, stupefying dare. When nothing happened, she barreled onward, arms out akimbo so she could execute several more muddy pirouettes.
She glanced back over her shoulder at him as they continued to mire their way through muck and swampy configuration, pondering over the next round of platitudes and ruminations. “Eats bugs and children…” she murmured to herself; a honeybee lost in thought. “And maybe portions of her house when those aren’t available?” Another hum from the youth, shaking her head, pulling on a few gnarled branches as she maneuvered beneath them. “What a life.”
She glanced back over her shoulder at him as they continued to mire their way through muck and swampy configuration, pondering over the next round of platitudes and ruminations. “Eats bugs and children…” she murmured to herself; a honeybee lost in thought. “And maybe portions of her house when those aren’t available?” Another hum from the youth, shaking her head, pulling on a few gnarled branches as she maneuvered beneath them. “What a life.”
I am the ocean and the battered shore
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
I will be the passion of thunder, a howl of fury
