01-26-2021, 08:57 PM
[div style="margin: auto; max-width: 475px; padding: 5%; min-height: 20px; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 17px;"]Subtle shift, woven strands pulled taunt and grown lax, time the skilled hands at play about the edge of the known. Away fallen soil once soft and pliable, frigid beneath ivory covering when the cold may penetrate deep, replacement grating. Toes spreading and allowing their dig, clinging particles scraping against sensitive flesh, away washed with the next rise. Know the sand, different yet always similar, fine the fleeting touch upon end of each long stride, cool where the scorching heat was expected. Almost wanted.
To decipher his reasoning was to allow another droplet to fall into the ocean that rang with a permanent clamour, the noise of each wave connecting, swallowed within the brine that propelled each forth. Never would they scrap the dark belly of the sky, upwards vision turning as the thought bloomed, find a place nestled among those glittering points of illumination. Sardonic the curl, held for a moment on cracked lips before it fled, replacement sour, the gentle curve of a frown taking hold. Once he dreamed of such, lofty the expectations and desires of a glorified errand boy, the one who may walk among the stars even as the world despised him with every breath.
He never made it, could not grow jovial and remark the moon indeed was an edible substance, a pipedream pushed down among the debris left in his wake.
Different the sky he studied with half lidded eyes, grown still now though ever slight his shift, weight rocking, the waves acting as influence. The constellations he knew not the names for, and those he made with the flick of a wrist and the faux surety of a practised liar speaking his own personal brand of truth, missing. Never a moment where all may grow still, a singular point of respite, expected the continuation until all seemed pointless.
Silent inhale, fleeting the noise to exhale. Forgein all, ache growing in the hollow of his chest, rooted that and scraping against his ribs, wound about soft tissue until his lungs seemed ignited in the hunger of all consuming flame. It is not there, he knows how fire eats and this is a shallow facsimile, but he holds it all the same, nurses it as he walks where the tide breaks. Never had he seen the ocean before, an expanse stretching to such a degree limitless seemed it, yet the sand before captures and holds a once wandering eye.
To decipher his reasoning was to allow another droplet to fall into the ocean that rang with a permanent clamour, the noise of each wave connecting, swallowed within the brine that propelled each forth. Never would they scrap the dark belly of the sky, upwards vision turning as the thought bloomed, find a place nestled among those glittering points of illumination. Sardonic the curl, held for a moment on cracked lips before it fled, replacement sour, the gentle curve of a frown taking hold. Once he dreamed of such, lofty the expectations and desires of a glorified errand boy, the one who may walk among the stars even as the world despised him with every breath.
He never made it, could not grow jovial and remark the moon indeed was an edible substance, a pipedream pushed down among the debris left in his wake.
Different the sky he studied with half lidded eyes, grown still now though ever slight his shift, weight rocking, the waves acting as influence. The constellations he knew not the names for, and those he made with the flick of a wrist and the faux surety of a practised liar speaking his own personal brand of truth, missing. Never a moment where all may grow still, a singular point of respite, expected the continuation until all seemed pointless.
Silent inhale, fleeting the noise to exhale. Forgein all, ache growing in the hollow of his chest, rooted that and scraping against his ribs, wound about soft tissue until his lungs seemed ignited in the hunger of all consuming flame. It is not there, he knows how fire eats and this is a shallow facsimile, but he holds it all the same, nurses it as he walks where the tide breaks. Never had he seen the ocean before, an expanse stretching to such a degree limitless seemed it, yet the sand before captures and holds a once wandering eye.
