wabitgirl

Her eyes, like dying stars supernova pulse immolating my soul illuminating my heresy and rendering inert my treason. For in the brilliance the guilt falls away. But to gaze into the conflagration is to see the face of god That which men cannot see And return from unchanged. Stare into its bewitching beauty Know heat on skin Fire blast the soul Till naught but I remain.

Once, I found that my words flowed But these days, they are hard to find. Once wealthy springs of verbal voicings are now vapid voids, no intellect. But when you are in my mind When I call your face to light Words come unbidden, striking as stars Zephyrs whisper them in, Lunar luminosity of angelic countenance I struggle to ejaculate a sentence, Save for your grace, wherein lies ease Bursting forth, spring gale, Torrential deluge of keen insight For rose petal lips, pursed and tarnished copper pools. Shrewd voracity, strikes electric Hail storming beats images metallic Shining indentations, displays elucidates the features In words, I find

"Another day, another flight, another damn, bloody firstmateless voyage," Thomas muttered to himself, hoisting the sails of his airship. Reaching over, he gripped the loop of rope that held his ship moored to the flight dock. "Yer off then, mis'ser?" the toothless dockwatch asked him, frowning silghtly. His name was Dodds and he was a kindly fellow, athough a bit slow. He always made sure to see Thomas off, for whatever reason, and Thomas had taken a shine to him. "Yes indeed, I am," Thomas called, tossing a silvered coin to Dodds. Dodds caught it and smiled, waving as Thomas slipped the mooring rope off of the peg and sidled his ship out i