The evening hour bloomed with a violet tone, the groves of knotted oak trees and clover fields nestled in a soft wash of lilac deep. The twilight burned with the onset of a summer night, pouring the earth in blue silk, and her body in a fresh nocturnal splendor. Her figure was like wine as it moved—smooth, rich, and deep with color and taste—elegantly catching the luminescence of the falling sun and the silver of the rising moon. At the break in the thicket, where the river ran broad with its gossamer waters, she stood, her figure a warm burnished shadow. She paused at the streams edge, curiously analyzing the stroking light glisten on the pooling ripples of its surface, the wind of oncoming night blissfully hugging her curves. Her tresses sashayed sweetly, her face adorned with russet curls and copper fibers, and as she peered into the liquid mirror, her chest heaved with an ache. And as she exhaled, her breath stuttered and she fell short of life, her heart quivering wildly with anxiety and blood. It devoured her, her flesh teeming with a suckling pain, her muscles trembling with sorrow and doubt. But it should not be revealed. It should not be discovered. No man, no woman should see something so pitiful, so writhing in anguish and grief. I should not leave myself so open to ridicule, so fresh to monsters' hunger. And so I readily begin to cover the rueful shakes, and once more I drag myself into an afflicted indifference. My emotions are only trouble, my emotions are merely paltry...
Her foot draws foreword, suspended above the washing place, and on her leg the waves cast a moving tattoo of water, tempting her with its cerulean art. And then she sunk to bathe, her body delving into the tranquil youth of the brook, dowsed in a satisfying cool. Her back sloped below the surface, her neck reclining gently in the air as she was lulled by the purifying cleanse, flushed hair wavering through the wetness. Breathes tracing the face of the drifting current, her slender face passed into the depths. All was quite in the waters of silence. The sounds were muted and low, hearing only the soft murmuring hum of the earth and the lathering expiration that passed through her cold lips. Her mane wavered about her head; there was nothing to see but shadows there, in the beneath. Everything was dark with mystery, enigmatic and strange. Nothing defined and all evanescent. All struck fear in her lonely heart. Her head arose from under, lashing into the chilling air, adorned with a flowing crown of crystalline beads, her hair circling in a whisper. As her skull emerged, her atoms shook with a startling paranoia, turning about in her bath to observe the quieted trees, the creeping darkness leaving her vexed with the unknown. But still she showered, her body soaking in the lingering tides. Her body swept of dust, she now only called to sweep her heart.
"Hello there"
| Messages In This Thread |