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IndigoEve
Member
since 2003-01-10
Posts 279
Etched in the illusion of time

0 posted 2003-10-24 11:20 AM


The moon seemed to linger and cast a quelling light over her face, which had been buried in the blackness of a rough evening sky. Long ago, these heavens were quietly dusted with constellations, and the scars of some midday revelation far too old to be forgotten. But now, darkness prevailed; silence smothered the stars, as well as the beauty of her song. The memory of its melody drifts easily away, like a whisper suspended on the wings of a butterfly..

Another morning comes. She stirs, the same as always, careful not to touch her face for fear of finding more dried, encrusted blood. Strangely, each time her tears cleanse her skin of the disfiguring marks, he's compelled to give them back tenfold. Her pounding head feels no desire to face the day , yet it eventually commands her battered eyes to open against the harsh, bright light that’s pierced her vague reality for so long. Turning over on her side, she watches as he rests. His chest rises and falls in some untamed, erratic rhythm. His breath, hot and violent as his temper, rasps from a throat rusty with slumber. How it goads her, and how she wishes to wring it silent forever; except, her hands are too tiny to do such a dangerous deed.

In between wakefulness and the embittered nirvana of her dreams is how she perceives the world. With him there is nothing but black and white, night and day. There was a time when she experienced the concept of gray with her delicate mind; that restless twilight in all of its glory. In those days her song flourished. Now, her existence is built upon a tightrope of his truth and her lies. Her life but a balancing act, where to waiver means to fall into the battering of his fists. How they cut against already broken skin, keeping her in a place of brutally submissive fear.

“Where have you been, I’ve been waiting all night for you.”

“I told you last time, it’s none of your goddamned business! Just stop interrogating me and get outta my way!”

“Look, can’t I worry about you? Is it such a crime for me to ask you what you’ve been doing?”

“Hell, I don’t want you to worry. What do you care if I’ve been out? What do you care if I’m getting laid? It’s my f*cking life, so leave me alone!”

“Every night you do this! I sit here in this damned house, and I worry! I have every right to ask you where you’ve been, what you’ve done! You’ve been with that whore again, haven’t you? I’ve seen you with her before, don’t think I’m blind to the truth!”

“Dammit! I told you to lay off! Stop with this sh*t ! Get the f*ck away from me and mind your own damn business! ”

He was yanking the rope under her and she knew it, but she pressed on because it was only way she knew to go. “No, listen to me!" she screamed. "I put up with your damn excuses night after night. I’m sick of it! Hell—" Her angry words shriveled to a ghastly whisper as the rope flew out from under her. "NO . . ."


She was once pushed into the abrasive stillness of a waning nightmare. And she dreamt of strange tranquility now and again, the fragile balance of his sanity tipping a little more as she slipped farther and farther into a state of numbing paradise. Sweet land, where fields mixed in lilacs and thyme fed her a panacea for her every woe. There were no memories, only eternity’s fragrant kiss.

He wasn’t beating you again was he?
Always questions, every time the light revealed what the darkness strived to cover. But gone were the stares, the inquiring faces; nothing but that sweet, angelic voice was to remain.

No, things will be different now...

She need not stir from the beautiful garden of roses her soul abides within, to find how her cheeks have been stained with midnight’s hues in a graceless fashion. No longer is her face a canvass, his hands the brush. Unceasing slumber has forever sealed the lids to the colors he once used to create paintings upon the immaculateness of her white, undaunted skin.



For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.--"Romeo and Juliet"

[This message has been edited by IndigoEve (10-24-2003 11:20 AM).]

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