Suzanne

Hungry thought, traitor,
I watched it beat its dusk-soft wings at the edges of my eyes with the vigilance of a thousand armies
All the while it opened silently the cavity of my breast and gnawed my heart to nothing.

From a conversation between a friend and I’s Tarnished.
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Kind hand

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I refuse to make thee a casualty of thine own love. And thou hast not known a stubbornness like mine. It does not come striding tall and righteous, but crawls on bloodied knee and palm to thee, begging softly, “no more.”

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