"so I love you because I know no other way than this:"
Isra does not tell him that he is all she can see anymore. She does not tell him that she saw him in each stretch of sandstone with a noose of silk around its throat. He is all she saw as she walked through the ghosts left behind here, and when she turned part of a wall to diamonds that made a sound like sorrow as they fell to the earth. Since she felt snow at her belly instead of sand or brine, Eik has been all she can ever see.
The clouds overhead cut themselves into the letters of his name as Fable swoops low and ferocious over the city in which evil has hold. Below him soldiers starts to scream and Isra laughs, and laughs, and laughs because everything but this moment, in this broken hut, is falling apart. She laughs and she drags her teeth along his hip because violence is the only way she knows how to hold herself together now.
And she thinks, she knows, that teeth on his skin is all the answer he will ever need to what shades of color she sees the world in now.
When two of his three crumbles, she's left standing there with violence rising up in a cage around her. She still has roots in her teeth and blood rushing too hotly, too swiftly, too moon-sharp through her heart. She still has the echo of the way she only sees him cutting through the blackness like summer lighting when she closes her eyes and presses against each of his kisses.
Isra imagines that each edge of her his a tide, and Eik is a shore of rocks. She imagines he is a cove and she is a sea full of salt and weed that is begging, and pleading, and forsaking the moon because it wants to be caught.
And oh, oh, oh----
oh!
When he closes up the last of the distance between them and his rocks trap all the violence slashing through her waves, she sinks into it. She sinks into the sand of him like the sea sinking into the earth, and the floor of the hut turns to mud that grabs and pulls at their ankles like a beast. It makes a great gasping sound when she pulls a leg from it (it does not sound like sorrow, but like a sigh at midnight).
“And I need you.” She says out loud and it echoes in that silent garden in which their minds are blooming. It echoes in a roar, and her roots tremble with all the ways in which she needs. The sea does not just want the cove, it's still begging for it in salted tears and broken shells.
Isra needs Eik like the tide needs the shore. She has always needed him
And then, it is not only the mud pulling her down, and down, and down.
@
