He was only half a man. Twisted, trembling, foreign. Fervishly staving off the steel claws in his throat, the hot iron pressed against his skull. On one hand, systematic, deliberate, concise. Fingertips tracing a cheek. Water cupped precariously in the palm. On the other, advantageous, sporadic, feral. Owing and owning zero. A dark path through the forest under the new moon. Sticks snapping under your feet. The hair on the back of your neck standing up. Driving too fast over ice on bald tires.
He lived in a shadow, in the breath of wind through oak limbs. In the rustle of grass your feet would tread through the field out back. He lived in between the sun and the clouds, in the purple prints tucked underneath your scarf, the lump that would always catch in your throat after a long day.
He was only half real, half apparition. In and out of silence, wings always half folded. Never alone long enough to feel comfortable. Never in one place long enough to call it home.
Feb 9, 2020
Feb 9, 2020 at 10:45 AM UTC
He was only half a man. Twisted, trembling, foreign. Fervishly staving off the steel claws in his throat, the hot iron pressed against his skull. On one hand, systematic, deliberate, concise. Fingertips tracing a cheek. Water cupped precariously in the palm. On the other, advantageous, sporadic, feral. Owing and owning zero. A dark path through the forest under the new moon. Sticks snapping under your feet. The hair on the back of your neck standing up. Driving too fast over ice on bald tires.
He lived in a shadow, in the breath of wind through oak limbs. In the rustle of grass your feet would tread through the field out back. He lived in between the sun and the clouds, in the purple prints tucked underneath your scarf, the lump that would always catch in your throat after a long day.
He was only half real, half apparition. In and out of silence, wings always half folded. Never alone long enough to feel comfortable. Never in one place long enough to call it home.