trade this heavy cage of bones for flight

DEIMOS

ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood

The slow press of time, rather than the fast, swift maneuvers of impending dread, apprehension, doom, and damnation swarming over their shoulders, seemed almost foreign and unfamiliar. It’d been a long while since any of them had those sweeping moments just to themselves, where minutes lingered and signified more than the eternal tides or the frigid winds. Several of them had taught him that – Evie included, enveloping over his tired, fatigued soul in gentleness and other things, figments, emotions, he wouldn’t name. “Okay,” he whispered in return once their mouths had parted, because no more would be done that evening – save for taking what they could and leaving the rest of the salvaging for the morning.

He rose upwards, leaving a trail of droplets over his form, resuming the prior stance, hands grasping hers to take her with him. Bodies rinsed and drain pulled, he found towels nearby and snagged one for each of them, though he took extra effort to snag hers deliberately over her head, around her shoulders, over wet skin. Were they not exhausted he probably would’ve inveigled more mischief, but instead it was a gentle ease – the bemused and labored smile tucked along dimples.

And then lifting her out of the tub, placing her back down on the floor, ignoring the ache in his shoulders. “You will stay?” Like they had before, shared expanses, alternating shelters and sanctuaries.

watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same