where will she go ? past land & sea maybe, clean out of sight where dewdrops still hang from her tongue. she will leave naught but rosy morn in her wake, a sign of cleansing, the world rejuvenated by the subtle kiss of her paws. where life goes she must follow ; it is an intricate existence that goes hang-in-hand with the all-mother’s soul, etched into the very confines of her now aging heart. he wishes to follow her, he does not want to be alone anymore, not when the sun settled so close near his cheek.
wherever the wind may take me.
she is always coming & going as though she were spring itself, the first day of spring that still clings onto its winter sheen. blossoms blush to flourish yet they do not last — they never last. she never stays & perhaps he knew that all too well. her whiskers tremble, her breath shimmers outward into the open, free air.
you may come with me if you like.
THE WEARINESS OF HER HEART still sends a ( dim, dim ) ache roiling through the darkle. bloats him heavy with sorrows he does not know. he fears this will promise rejection; of his shadow, of his presence in this world, perhaps even the next. only now that cycle isn’t a mundanity, it’s a painful thought. to see the sun part from the horizon when he has grown to love her light. wherever the wind may take me --- not us.
slowly his mask would turn a cheek. expression fails him; it did not melt with frowning chasms. he grows distant, as frigid in thought as the vacuum of space. it was the anticipation of denial that deepens the ache, one absorbed now his own. black and squirming within him. again he is overcome with the desire to disappear, to fade into the nothing that he is. he nearly draws a trembled moan, a cry of recurring defeat.
her utterance tempers his, like a dark room abrupt with radiance. with eyeless gaze ‘pon her again, trance is lifted and the mask nods ( up and down, up and down ) with the elation of a child. ❛ e-ehh... ❜
i thought ... you were going to say no.
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