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12-01-2015, 08:42 PM
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Rhoa Like ships in the night She is like a vision of lovliness, dancing across my vision. She appears like a night wind, delicate, cold and silent. She contrasts this desolate landscape in the way that I do - black on white, but she sparkles in a way that I cannot replicate. I burn silently, never quite being used up. But she? She appears to shine. Yet she blends into this nightmarish frost as I do, in that we are alone here. Does anyone else even exist? Are we, the two of us, the last? And if we are, what's to become of us? What does this moment hold? Her gaze catches mine, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. I want to etch this moment into my memory, to forestall the inevitable weight that I will feel when she leaves. She is off somewhere, isn't she? Off to someone, something better? And I? I will just remain here, shan't I? Alone, in the white, and the cold and the - "It's as if there is no one else left in the world." My voice betrays me, and I reach out to her with my words to usher her to stay. Perhaps it is merely instigating heartache - surely she will decline and leave? - but if this dream is to remain such, and not become a nightmare, I need this angel in black to be at my side. I inhale deeply. The air is crisp, and clean, and somehow the purity of it strikes me as compelling. I exhale in a long, wintery stream of white frost. @Glacia |
