FicWad

Passionate sweat of impassionate angels fused with ours. With sour copper kisses we became one, dry marrow coursing in our bones. I remember a palable lucid dream where I stood on curling hillocks while the moon rose like a phoenix through the dust. It was milky white, a garish color. You, with your broken monocle, stood beside me. What I also remember is an attic filled with toys and pottery on the floor, smashed like my imagination. Teddy bears gather particles of dirt like the haze on my memory.

Far beyond, where the shadow of Okage lurks ahead; I dare enter. It's the valley of death where scavengers remain Lords. "Slow down," you cry but I cannot. I run without care of what the wind whispers about me. I care not what others think in my sespool of hate. Above me are clouds in the shapes of dogs and cats, clowns and gypsies.

One hundred years under the sun has taught me nothing but how to feed off the knowledge of humans. They know so much about what I'm not... As I ramble, a tune has formed inside of me. As a slave of the land, are you satisfied with your pay? Does it put food on the table, meat down your gullet? Do the maggots show their adoration for your brain? I caress your creamy skin; I tend to the natural folds your body creates.

The train tracks of yesteryear have yet since forgotten you. And these rainbows in the sky above do nothing but flutter and break, making the rubies and emeralds we know today. Pitter patter on the roof; rain clouds form and fresh clouds wither.