| On Survival & Selfishness. |
[02 Jan 2015|01:51pm] |
[toska, luut]
He came to her as the tide came called by the moon. The sun sank betwixt the jagged tops of skyscrapers sprung up from the wreckage of Descoria like a streak of sanguine slowly dripping across the domed arc of sky. Its fading light changed from blue to lavender while the whites of the clouds dotted across that swathe morphed into evening’s golden orange. The linings of those meteorological ministrations had shone as a mercurial fire to the west, sharp and bright like a freshly born blade that had yet to cool, slicing slivers of the atmosphere along their languid march into the night as they dutifully paid mind to the whims of a darker sky. Midnight colors settled across the dome of their planetary bell jar in a splash of stars; an innumerable collection of cosmic eyes staring upon the pitiful creatures planted well below their burning, blinking brightness.
( He came to her as a fog comes creeping across moorlands. ) |
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