Dead stars

The branches slashed across my face as I ran, clutching the bleeding heart to my chest. The sky was an angry red, a gash that weeped tears of blood. The thunder echoed the drumbeat of my heart, all around me the stars collapsed from above.

I dodged the madness of the ocean above my head, the balls of fire that landed exhausted, outstripped as I ran through the burning forest. The flames from the burning stars licked the dried trunks that swallowed the fire whole.

I could hear your laughter in the devastation, as my feet flew over the ground, yearning for the sea that would sooth your burns. Your castles stood behind me, your hounds at my heels as I stumbled and howled with them, bleeding as my soul warred with the dying stars.

When I set my foot on the cool sand of the beach, I felt my feet sink in the grains. The waves frothed and gasped, heaving upon the shore lying a dying man. I could almost see the sparkle in your eyes as you balanced on the parapet of your stone walls, one wrist flicked like the direction of an operatic conductor. The moon swooned with your order,dragging the sea away from the shore, as I stretch my hand towards it. Two lovers pulled away by your madness.

You’ve taken away the stars, the moon and I lay in the endless twilight, the sand grains kissing my hair as I admire the ink dripping from my skin. I’m made up of shadows, reduced to nothing when you finally arrive.

The air hums, and the sea shells rustle upon the shore, the darkness stirring at the advance of its master. Your gait liquid mercury, your defined cheeks-bones outlining the softness of your mouth. I barely see you, as you kneel in the sand. The absurdity of a king on his knees is lost on me, as my gaze swallows the darkness you’ve brought upon the world.

An impasse, I am tethered to your reality, afloat in a world where you and the dead belong. The skulls are bleached in the shadows, the dead don’t speak. Your lips are life, in their bloom that is almost like swallowing the sun. My mouth opens as I drag yourself into me, devouring you while every touch of yours peels away my skin.

My fingers gain admittance into the stiff tufts of your hair, I kiss you while your hands trail fire down my side.

In the warmth of your lips, in the soft breath that flows over my face I can feel the destruction you are willing to cause to keep me here.

I am cocooned in a blanket that smells of smoke, your arm wrapped around my shoulder as we sit on the beach, so close that your words stick to my skin like the breeze.

The laughter rings in your teeth as I stare in wonder at the sea waves frothing and rising in their own brand of madness. You lift your hand, placing it against the ink blue fabric of the sky. As you close your fist, there is an explosion, the star plummets down to earth, helpless.

My face turns, pressing against the narrow chest, my breath warming a steadily beating heart. Your long fingers trail through my hair, and in their gentleness you belie the violence you are capable of.

With one hand you condemn stars to death, with the other you twine seashells into my hair.

The sand is soft beneath our feet, liquid darkness against the white of your toes. You hold me close like you could hold me forever in the embrace, but even a ruler of stars cannot rule time.

I look up into the eyes that remind me of the earth, my insides waging a war. The reality battles with the feeling of our skin, dilusioned by what should be, and what was- almost palpable in our blood. How could something so right not fit?

It was like reading that the earth was round, when you fell off the side.

Not even your brightness could save me, not the thousands of dead stars that lay at my feet. The absurdity of our parting stood between us, a leering smile, a hundred teeth swimming in the air.

What do you do, when you slip out of your own skin? Leaving you was as impossible as living without myself.

I imagined, and in the beach, I floated into the limbo, understood the possibility of the impossible.

Yet, try as I may I couldn’t imagine us parting.

But part we did, with the sweetest of goodbyes, or as sweet as being reduced to dust in the middle of a kiss could be. As he opened his eyes, his lips still tasting of ash, he saw me burn out, just like one of his stars.

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