Subject:  <\/><\/><\/>---...Exit Wounds...---<\/><\/><\/> |
Author:
Never The Less
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Date Posted: 20:33:48 03/21/01 Wed
Author Host/IP: px3nr.wp.shawcable.net/24.66.94.142
In reply to:
Exit Wounds
's message, "- - )( - - **~~~~~~ Never the Less ~~~~~~** - - )( - -" on 13:17:07 03/18/01 Sun
*A flame arises within the holds of her throat, scorching the flesh within it, burning, searing, a hot press fixed into the back of her tongue, her lips quivering, longing to release its painful nature, to release each note into the grasps of the winds, with her hope, a silent prayer, that even a whisper of its presence would bound its way through the pressing mists, its choking attire broken, iron links snapped apart, its flailing limbs finally grasping his orbs for a moment, even a second, or less, for only the time that it would require to hold....... Her limbs quiver with anticipation, with bubbling, coiling, overtaking pressure, a pressure which fills her from hoof to muzzle, consumes her, dulling her senses in its numbing presence... and at long last, at once, no moment to prepare, no moment to recover, her lips snap effortlessly apart to release a tumbling breath, the curls of resonance cutting through those of the wind as if they were nothing but frail autumn leaves, lashed weakly to a frail twig..... She carries both fore off of the thawing terrain, her hooves thick with mud, with sod, though even its startling plummet as it meets the sopping soil never rises above her replying call..... His voice, her voice, join, hand in hand, their grasp tight, untrusting, firm, each carrying the other in a fateful dance which casts them both into the distance of the night, the darkness drowning their once dominant call in its deafening silence, a silence which brings all fear, which begins its endless round.... All that is left, now, the drain of their teasing breath as it meets each gust of wind, snapped away in the power, resounding its defying silence, all made to listen to nothing, so much, yet so little, to feast their lobes upon its beckoning void...... Then a sound, an emition, as her iron hoof plummets forward within the sodden dusts, the low cloud consuming the darkness, holding it, shrouding it..... Her whole follows, down to the last strand of wavering tail, her body so near to his, her lobes adhering of the steady tone of breath which escapes each broad nasal....... The moment was now..... It would be sooner nor later.. It was simply this time, this single strand of time, a time at which their hearts would choose how this meeting should end............*
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