Amidst the memory, a gulf - a startled breast Tighter and tighter it winds, the pink stain bleeding away, flowing into the power that Raven has already twined with Blodwen's own. amidst the shadows struggling to become man and woman again Unerringly it dives deeper, dragging the heat haze with it, sword-sharp and bright as the sun, as the stars. It cuts through the Dark, tangling itself in the loose edges and pulling them along, ripping them away from what lies hidden beneath. amidst sleep and death a stagnant life. There is a shriek--from Blodwen? from Raven? from both?--high and ringing and wild, and the sense of something snapping, pulling back in on itself. The heat haze swarms over Raven, blanketing his skin, and he staggers back a step, dropping down to one knee. Your hands moved always towards the sea's drowsiness caressing the dream that ascended the golden spider Silence reigns, at least for the moment, and Raven lifts his head to watch the woman, black eyes wide and bright and old. bearing into the sun the host of constellations the closed eyelids the closed wings . . .
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-06-13 04:03 am (UTC)Tighter and tighter it winds, the pink stain bleeding away, flowing into the power that Raven has already twined with Blodwen's own.
amidst the shadows struggling to become man and woman again
Unerringly it dives deeper, dragging the heat haze with it, sword-sharp and bright as the sun, as the stars. It cuts through the Dark, tangling itself in the loose edges and pulling them along, ripping them away from what lies hidden beneath.
amidst sleep and death a stagnant life.
There is a shriek--from Blodwen? from Raven? from both?--high and ringing and wild, and the sense of something snapping, pulling back in on itself. The heat haze swarms over Raven, blanketing his skin, and he staggers back a step, dropping down to one knee.
Your hands moved always towards the sea's drowsiness
caressing the dream that ascended the golden spider
Silence reigns, at least for the moment, and Raven lifts his head to watch the woman, black eyes wide and bright and old.
bearing into the sun the host of constellations
the closed eyelids the closed wings . . .