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Sand. Grit. Salt. Tongue. Breeze.
Wet. Fire. Ocean. Boards falling, breaking under crushing weight, tremors. Lick, pain deep, hurting stabbing pain of the projectile, bullet hitting kevlar tough on her chest, no blood, no entry just-- aturmoilof bleatingneed alivelikeasweetbabyanimal, dying in Madison's hands, her beautiful hands, twisting softsoftfur, oh- a lamb, a little white lamb (wool) its neck twists, and she can hear the crack it makes loudestcrackingbabylambneckbonesgoingjust one long snap "In a moment, you could be with me. Fall with me. Three's a crowd, and we could be our own special angels, a company of two--" Lick. Sandpapery, rough tongue. "Yeah, baby. We could make it work." Body leaning, face impressed surfboard-wielding, gun-toting, car-bomb detonating "Don't you want to make it-" once-heralded, beautiful Angel "yeah, do it-" on her way to freedom "with me." She bursts into view with black, black wings streaming behind her trumpeting an arrival with feathers to match the obsidian of her eyes, the ebony of her hair the black, black black- coffee black- coal black- tar spit blood black coffee coal, burning wet fire-black of her demon heart. Extending a hand like a reach breaking six degrees of space between them, and the good or evil they (all) (any?) (No. just two- both could be. It's not often that they come with music. Rare, when it's something from the braces era. That fact alone should make it more comforting, but it's not. because it's starting to get like it's harder to tell that-- Together forever and never to part Instead it's a recurring nightmare loop of "Yes." ripped white bodice (hers) (her own) drawstrings, pulled leather, torn (*hers*) (not her own..) along with feathers, black feathers a tangle of limbs, on a beach which suddenly explodes into fire below, like wooden boards leading a downward spiral into hell---- and Natalie hopes, desperately to wake up now. |