| Subject: ..the pleasure is all mine.. |
Author:
Fajarah
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Date Posted: 19:03:01 08/04/02 Sun
In reply to:
mirage of dreams
's message, ".|.how nice it is to see you.|." on 09:53:26 08/04/02 Sun
..quiet, and thoughtful. in shock, slightly, how her mother had changed.. and not changed at all. unmoved, watching her depart, returning to the most rudely interrupted conversation between herself and the local boy, no doubt. slow smile and a diverted gaze. ah, the olden days.. how times have changed.. rare smile tightens at the corners and twists into a grimace. memories. memories of happiness.. and pain. how easy it was to believe the blame of a lost foalhood and all sense of innocense was upon the shoulders of one, and that by accusing he of his apparent wrong, and turning the cold shoulder on the world, for it had played the puppetmaster, holding whatever warmth was left clutched tightly within like a child's doll under the covers at night.. the pain left to simmer over time, instead of being immediately poured down the drain. unless one was to touch the stove of that inner warmth, turn down the heat of pain.. hatred was bubbling, but, as of yet, it had not boiled over. there was still time. i wish i could hate father, for what he did to you. i wish i could hate you, mother, for what you did to me. i wish i could hate caliph, and all those bastards whose blood flow within my veins, who disnamed me as kin and allowed me to blow away and forgotten like piss on the wind. i am unable. as i am unable of love. dished fore tucks closer toward the protection of quivering muscel bunched chest, the long sinews straining along pulsating jugular of slender arch. eyes brim threateningly and are clamped tightly together as interwoven shag falls accross vision. breathing comes rasp as legs are braced and tail is lifted, whole body shaking, containing some inner eruption of emotion.. cupped lobes slowly tuck neetly downward upon stiffened wirelike mane..
..the pleasure is all mine..
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