This flesh is as an amber flicker formed and I await the verdict, the precise blade and wonder if Strength shall come to press Her spine to mine...will Hope whisper the sweet utterings to return and dust mine eyelids with butterflies to carry me through..?
I am fondling the gutting of this glass world, in a form of Purity cleansing all trace of The Tribe of Anguis and Our once Passage. Certainly it is a sacred ritual though it only alters the perception of that which is hunted,gathered and gnawed upon by Others whom never knew the vibration within Our ribcages out in the savage journey beneath the stars. So too would this but let the already frayed bindings fall to release in the Now. M deserves such at mine side, though He never sorts through this glass orb and knows Belief in Truth unharmed.
Still, Z. & I deserve the echo haunt release upon each of Our pathways, even so late in the hour.
Do I stitch blind mine eyelids and simply trickster slant with swift hand a new form or as one take the entire gather of shards and with the proper burial into the Never..?
I long to spit on none nor pretend that such never existed...only Release the last ashen ghosts.
We recall and is that not enough Blood for each of Our lives woven through gnarled hands in the Pattern..?
The Widows only scent of Sorrow and sideways slip avoid mine gaze when I boldly inquire in the corners.
I catch myself wicked then and utter but one silken word; "V." which sends Them aflutter like birds simpering,glowing,stitching.
With one breath I realize how small and flecked it All becomes, merely an eyelash upon the tongue.
Amber Coated Shards of Saelokit
- .Ashen Stained Fingertips.