DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
Something in his chest built into a tight, gnarled affliction, beating erratically and painfully, and he looked away again – down along the woodgrains and dust upon his desk, upon the floor, on a range of hues reflecting from the embers and fire. So much loss and still much more to come, and really no way of stopping it other than protection she didn’t want from him. Deimos didn’t know what she yearned from him now – other than to sever remaining ties again and again and again – nooses and knots he failed to recognize or see or believe in.
The solemnity stayed, though he wished it would stray. “And Bastien too. From landsharks.” Another blow, another multitude of protection and sanctity gone and riddled into nothingness – acrimony and violence and nothing the artist would’ve craved. At least he is with your mother now wanted to echo on his tongue, but it didn’t make its way through his mouth, feeling like ash and soot. “Maybe you can look in on Azrael too.”
The promise might mean something or nothing; because he’d known her to be tenacious when it came to her own decisions, whether they be foolish or dangerous. Persistent and enduring, quick and witty, sharp and clever, but –
“All right,” was a guttural murmur, taking shape out of his melancholy, and he didn’t know what else to say or add. Lost, a bit, as he so often managed to drift.
The solemnity stayed, though he wished it would stray. “And Bastien too. From landsharks.” Another blow, another multitude of protection and sanctity gone and riddled into nothingness – acrimony and violence and nothing the artist would’ve craved. At least he is with your mother now wanted to echo on his tongue, but it didn’t make its way through his mouth, feeling like ash and soot. “Maybe you can look in on Azrael too.”
The promise might mean something or nothing; because he’d known her to be tenacious when it came to her own decisions, whether they be foolish or dangerous. Persistent and enduring, quick and witty, sharp and clever, but –
“All right,” was a guttural murmur, taking shape out of his melancholy, and he didn’t know what else to say or add. Lost, a bit, as he so often managed to drift.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
