The spunk in her bones

Feral eyed the young man came in, he walked beyond where he was told to be willing, and a taint of happiness trailed behind in his footprints. As the sand of time trickled into the barely contained rattling inside her bones, he became nervous, as he’d seen the inside of the tigers mouth….and he loved it.

She sat there as a hungry wizened maker of madness, a whippoorwill across the valley of hopes in boys. With each breath there was a timing in her heart, it brought memories of deep sighs, open armed with claws reaching, and the steep fall of broken Stupids in ruin. They should have let her sink the lock, brought they’re dreams into her conversation, and showed her the actions of years building them true.

He ran into the stream of her boom, it’s beckoning force catching the gale and whipping the sheet-bends across her bow. The stutter stepping began with questioning the directions of the other men who had failed, and he paled while hoping for her smile. It may have taken hours, weeks, or years, but the colors fading in her hair brought him satisfaction in the moments she met his gaze.

Anyone could see the well watered roots of her sight, a fine layer masked little, and the shock was painted across it in his dirty. She grins now as a perfectly placed approval, curling back his doubts, and an offer for the same lay barely hidden within her lips. He shifted his stance, having gathered into his joys, by her wanting of him more.

The sign said, “KEEP BACK OF SIGN”, so I did that and met this cliff. Returning at high tide is forever a hope buried in time, as the water below crashes into the rocks, and blossoms into rumblings through my feet.

Drained of politeness from her reaping of his underbelly in questions, as a source of glee he wrote transfixed, on the potent of her plots. With each broken line of snow balls thrown to miss, he hoped they made her blush, and dusted her feet with tickling snowflakes. The tea didn’t help wake him up after that, and he passed out in a honeyed bliss, because she had shared the wish of a restart…for her heart.

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4 comments

  1. and yeah – I may just go write now – though being 10:30 pm my side of the world – not sure how much I have left in me – but I do so feel the need. Very much so.

    Like

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