Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
The kind luxere began to drag them along, and were Melita not wholly occupied by all the other thoughts swimming in her head, she might’ve enjoyed the soft whishing of runners gliding over snow. Of the lights twinkling. Of peace and tranquility.
But perhaps they were too far removed from that now.
She clutched the mug, but her eyes were elsewhere, drawn over the plains of darkness, jaw taking on a mulish clench. “And Jack should be here, if you’re gone from Torchline.” As some sort of defender, she supposed, considering it’d be in his self-interest.
Lovely, but refined, wasn’t how the honeybee had heard it coined. Ancient and racist came to mind. Dreading the notions of setting foot there before, only an actual purpose, rather than audacious curiosity, inspired the trek. “All right.” Acceptance of the inevitable, whenever the sovereign was ready.
But perhaps they were too far removed from that now.
She clutched the mug, but her eyes were elsewhere, drawn over the plains of darkness, jaw taking on a mulish clench. “And Jack should be here, if you’re gone from Torchline.” As some sort of defender, she supposed, considering it’d be in his self-interest.
Lovely, but refined, wasn’t how the honeybee had heard it coined. Ancient and racist came to mind. Dreading the notions of setting foot there before, only an actual purpose, rather than audacious curiosity, inspired the trek. “All right.” Acceptance of the inevitable, whenever the sovereign was ready.
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
