every day it feels like I’m holding back an ocean
The deft air, its fingers tangible and cool pulled at long, loose threads of a honeyed fray. The oblong structure complete with limbs and strands of mane, a plume trailing long behind. The ears were lopsided in a surprising fashion due to sheer exhaustion she felt, at a time when prey should be forewarned and cautious. The senses were drunk in much disdain to the mind whose control was lost as well. The figure loomed forwards in a rhythmic pattern though uncoordinated and devouring advanced steps in an irregular cadence. Delicate slips of skin that ceded eyes lined with light lashes, were perplexingly closed, despite the movement the body insisted on delegating. Tendons to the muscles, the appendages extending and retracting beneath the barrel of the body, golden and bight like sunshine; a certain softness about the general figure and a sleepy facial expression. Stagnant shadows rippled over like the motion of running water, light dancing in between the bare gaps; drenched in moonlight and darkness, a now solitary being that had been created of loving origins was rendered now with far too many vulnerabilities and no way to combat them.
Promises and vows made before she had even taken her first breath. She knew what was owed to him. But undutiful and mistakenly they had been broken as she crossed the land of her home that had isolated her from the rest of the world. She was a maiden of a beauty and a general, a girl of substantial standing, but a crestfallen angel nonetheless, beautifully imperfect. The coated sheen upon her skin continued to glisten as poetically and ironically as the distant stars, in all ways that were cliché and visually realistic. The stress ran in the veins as swiftly as her pulsing blood. No observer would see her eyes of harbored sky, the gaze tilted downwards just so, as if she did not wish to believe each step was taking her further and further away. She staggered with an air of gracefulness and yet it was obvious the latter was unintentional. She was youthful and doe-like, her mane cascading over sides of her slender nape whose axis and atlas upheld her stately dome. Her forelock was slung casually across an eye, the ivory veil shielding the world from the unexposed heart shaped marking upon her brow.
The grass shunted against her feet, muffling those quiet steps. She plodded on, stumbling now, the weight unevenly distributed over the four of her limbs, the forefront and the hindquarters. There was little expression upon her face, slight nuances of rich bitter sweetness like a light, pungent chocolate. The spiteful, air nymphs carried her aroma far across the stone knolls, intermixing amongst the other lingering equine. She was fair game, fair prey by looks and circumstance. She was alone and although not ill, she was mentally elsewhere claimed by a lack of active consciousness.
There was a face that haunted her. It had not relented in all the days she had marched, but not like a soldier, like a deserter. She was growing accustomed to these strange day dreams and thoughts revolving around the one who wanted her. Breath caught in her throat, her body and muscles seizing up in a cold sweat. She could not fathom the feelings dominating presently. She feared him. Associating everything about him a deadly cold and murder. Chest heaving and ragged breath, her knees bent and other limbs otherwise propping the rest of her body upwards. She stumbled; the darkness had its vice hold upon her, dragging her down into the abyss.
No.
She fights.
Those icy blue depths open with a look of fierce determination. The golden mare looks over her shoulder then, sure he had not followed her to this strange, new land. A land without magic. The autumn air brushes against her face affectionately, like lover’s tangled fingers lingering in another’s hair. She then moves forward, just keeps moving forward.
She’s forgotten to do anything but.
* e l e n a
in the dark I’ll pray for the return of the light
the sunflower daughter of benjamin and beylani
no home. mother of none. |