a king walks among us
She talks to him as the sun slipping over the horizon or the sun slipping under the horizon as a drowned creature submitting to the water in its lungs. Peacefully and with grace. He likes the sound of her words and wants only to have written them himself; this outside world has done great things for his prose but suddenly he cannot compare.
She is so much more than what he knows.
He asks, ”Where are you from?” because it sounds like a place he would like to stay.
She ruffles her feathers and he can only laugh more, though his untimely sneeze frightens her - he thinks - and for the first time in his life he does not wish to frighten. The way she presses against him feels like home and he leans into her.
”You scared me.”
The words -
sting.
El Rey dips his head to look up at her sheepishly. ”I’m sorry,” his voice warbles with concern as a lonesome bird. ”I didn’t mean to.” He looks away, gaze trailing the ground.
Fear is a tool for making someone leave.
It is the last thing he wants right now.
@
”in blood the blade, to its golden hilt, I’ll drown,“
I pledge you now, to death they all are bound,
