raptureofthemoon: (eyes)
::Part 1:: ; ::Part 2::

Eyes I Dare Not Meet in Dreams

In death’s dream kingdom
These do not appear
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column



30 years of sleep had dulled neither his natural instincts nor those given him by the fumbling science of a madman. He knew it was only a matter of time before she sought him out again and standing in this little valley, downwind from the rest of the group, he was able to fixate on her scent before she drew close, that blend of lilac and light sweat coupled with the more private heady scents of womanhood.

The first time he’d caught the heavy aroma of copper he’d asked if she were wounded. The look she’d given him had prompted his clarification. I can smell blood on you. She’d turned away from him, blush staining her features, and he’d then realized the faux pas.

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raptureofthemoon: (Default)
dreaming through the noise

September 2015

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