“I::heard::she’s::dating::a::human,” his::eyes::studied::her::as::she::walked::by.

“...yes. I’m::human,::you’re::human,::everyone::in::this::park::is::human. Of::course::she’s::dating::a::human.”

“Oh,”said::Jim::awkwardly::scratching::the::back::of::his::head. He::gave::his::friend::an::apologetic::smile. A::smile::that::he::knew::would::set::off::the::dimples::in::his::face. Jim::hoped::his::smile::worked. For::a::second::he::had::forgotten::that::he::had::borrowed::this::body::and with::it::all::of::its::corporeal::attachments::to::the::world

and::the::complex::farcical::qualities::of::human::engagement. Jim::had::in::fact::passed::away::at::specifically 5:15 am earlier in the morning.

@nijahwrites

you promised,

with your eyes,

that this was the last lie,

you’ll ever tell me.

and I believed you,

bending to your will.

you told me,

she meant nothing to you,

so why do your eyes follow her,

like I don’t know that they do.

why?

why?

why?

you took my heart,

and let it implode in the cave of your mouth,

until there was nothing,

nothing,

nothing,

but the sawdust,

which choked up,

my throat,

my lungs,

my ribcage,

everything.

and you wonder why my heart,

stopped beating for you.

The birds sang sweetly and pink flowers bloomed in the trees. She readied her white dress and pinned up her curls. At the sound of three knocks, she answered her door.

“I’m so glad we’re here for my special day,”

“Nothing is more important than being our first ritual sacrifice.”

I miss you,

you who hovers,

under opaque and flowy gauze,

delicate features distant in memory,

refracting the sunlight,

as waves which reflect,

an inconsolable illusion,

hidden in the desolate depths,

of a neverending sea.

I miss you,

words warm and sweet,

lovely as amber honey in the sunlight.

I yearn for your voice,

your creativity,

your imagination,

your laughter,

which you gift me,

as a comforting mead,

on frosty winter nights.

My throat clenches,

my heart heaves,

salty tears escape my eyes,

when you are not here.

I miss the words you gave me,

and the ideas which blossomed,

from your simmering golden sun.

I miss you,

as a lover misses the moon,

a cut flower,

which misses its earth.

The unfortunate tragedy,

of losing you,

is that I will always ache,

to hear these same sentiments,

pouring out,

of your beautiful mouth,

and it pains me so much,

for me to wonder,

if,

you have also whispered,

“I miss you, too.”

@dream

Royalty,

chivalry,

opulence,

and liberty

brewed with

indigo and blueberries,

on a crisp winter day.