nebula;
So this one just came out of the quote at the beginning. It's confusing but not in the same style as the last one. Uh. I kinda like it. Feedback?
“Hey. Don’t you know? If you tilt your head just right, your eyes fill up with stars.”
~*~
They run across the banks of sand and sky and time and dash from the black foamy waves that wash over their feet.
Her face looks so tiny and flushed and he swears to God if he had just a bit more courage in him he’d kiss her right there, kiss her senseless and then run off before she could figure it out.
But he don’t got any more courage in him, because he just laughs and laughs and laughs as they kick up dust, star-bits, and the past and the future and now instead. The sea is black and the banks are black and everything is black but the sky-the sky, it’s so bright because it’s filled with so many stars. So many stars that light up her hair and her smile and he doesn’t know which makes the other more beautiful and it roots him on the spot as the waves wash over his feet and he sinks sinks into the sand-sky-time.
Tiny fingers grab his hand and pull him from the mooshy sand and he trips along after her, now, forever.
~*~
The waves. They don’t foam anymore. And he can’t see the sky in the banks. It’s supposed to be there mixed in, and he digs and digs and digs, getting starbits under his fingernails but he can’t find it anymore.
She stands still, a white dress. She is down the shore. Never. No, she’s never been that far away before. He can walk to her, but he’s supposed to reach out and feel her there. Her fingers are still tiny but longer now, and her face is not small.
He’s rooted to the sand-time because he can still get lost in her-her everything, but this time she’s not right there to pull him out of it.
But when he sinks to his ankles, she’s there, pulling him out with a smile, a little one, and they don’t run anymore but they still walk along the shore, along the bank, and he thinks something’s a little less beautiful because it’s not as bright as it used to be.
The stars. They used to be so many.
~*~
It’s dark. It’s so dark. Where? Where did they go? After the sky, they faded, one by one, and now-now he just stands on sand, the time is gone. The waves are black and the banks are black and the sky is black and there’s nothing. There’s nothing.
Nothing anymore.
He can’t find it. It won’t. Show. It won’t.
There’s nothing to be captivated by, but he stands there, getting rooted in the sand. She’s so far away now, so far that he can’t even see her, and her dress isn’t white anymore, she blends in with everything or maybe she’s just gone now, like the sky and the foam and the stars and the time. Maybe she was never there to begin with.
He’s up to his ankles, but no one can pull him out.
He tilts his head.
He’s up to his knees.
He looks up at them.
He’s up to his thighs.
Where they should be.
He’s up to his hips.
Where they should look down on him.
He’s up to his torso.
Where they should light it all up and embellish what’s beautiful and show him how to get out of here and back to that place with the starbits and the laughter and flushed tiny faces and boys with no courage.
He’s up to his neck.
But he tilts his head just right, and his eyes only reflect the black.
So he closes them.
“Hey. Don’t you know? If you tilt your head just right, your eyes fill up with stars.”
~*~
They run across the banks of sand and sky and time and dash from the black foamy waves that wash over their feet.
Her face looks so tiny and flushed and he swears to God if he had just a bit more courage in him he’d kiss her right there, kiss her senseless and then run off before she could figure it out.
But he don’t got any more courage in him, because he just laughs and laughs and laughs as they kick up dust, star-bits, and the past and the future and now instead. The sea is black and the banks are black and everything is black but the sky-the sky, it’s so bright because it’s filled with so many stars. So many stars that light up her hair and her smile and he doesn’t know which makes the other more beautiful and it roots him on the spot as the waves wash over his feet and he sinks sinks into the sand-sky-time.
Tiny fingers grab his hand and pull him from the mooshy sand and he trips along after her, now, forever.
~*~
The waves. They don’t foam anymore. And he can’t see the sky in the banks. It’s supposed to be there mixed in, and he digs and digs and digs, getting starbits under his fingernails but he can’t find it anymore.
She stands still, a white dress. She is down the shore. Never. No, she’s never been that far away before. He can walk to her, but he’s supposed to reach out and feel her there. Her fingers are still tiny but longer now, and her face is not small.
He’s rooted to the sand-time because he can still get lost in her-her everything, but this time she’s not right there to pull him out of it.
But when he sinks to his ankles, she’s there, pulling him out with a smile, a little one, and they don’t run anymore but they still walk along the shore, along the bank, and he thinks something’s a little less beautiful because it’s not as bright as it used to be.
The stars. They used to be so many.
~*~
It’s dark. It’s so dark. Where? Where did they go? After the sky, they faded, one by one, and now-now he just stands on sand, the time is gone. The waves are black and the banks are black and the sky is black and there’s nothing. There’s nothing.
Nothing anymore.
He can’t find it. It won’t. Show. It won’t.
There’s nothing to be captivated by, but he stands there, getting rooted in the sand. She’s so far away now, so far that he can’t even see her, and her dress isn’t white anymore, she blends in with everything or maybe she’s just gone now, like the sky and the foam and the stars and the time. Maybe she was never there to begin with.
He’s up to his ankles, but no one can pull him out.
He tilts his head.
He’s up to his knees.
He looks up at them.
He’s up to his thighs.
Where they should be.
He’s up to his hips.
Where they should look down on him.
He’s up to his torso.
Where they should light it all up and embellish what’s beautiful and show him how to get out of here and back to that place with the starbits and the laughter and flushed tiny faces and boys with no courage.
He’s up to his neck.
But he tilts his head just right, and his eyes only reflect the black.
So he closes them.