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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    this is your kingdom, this is your crown; a laura pony
    #6

    I'm wasted, losing time; I'm a foolish, fragile spine
    I want all that is not mine; I want him but we're not right

    She is not sure why her heart is stuttering in her chest, why this simple touch is so profoundly important, but she knows that it is—in the same way that she knows the moon will rise and the sun will set and she will still be impossibly alive when she should be dead. So she doesn’t leave from her, even when she says that she will, and she feels relief flood through her when she says that she doesn’t want to. “Good,” she breathes softly out, resting her weight against the other mare, feeling supported and comforted.

    “Marvel,” she repeats the name, will always repeat it if she requests, and glances upward, catching the bruised gaze of her companion. “Marvel,” again, and she closes her eyes, mouth tilting in the corners with clear, unadulterated pleasure. The name was sweet on her tongue, soft and precious, and she held it close, tucking it into the most private parts of her heart where she could perhaps look upon it later in fondness.

    (Adaline loved—easily, fiercely, completely—but she did not expect love to last.)

    “Can I ask you a question?” she whispers, lifting her head to exhale into Marvel’s mane, wondering at the way that the inky colors of it danced from the gentle prompting. She did not expect such gentleness from the other, but she hopes that she can find honesty too—and then she has to wonder if perhaps that is too much to ask. Was it too much to hope for kindness and truthfulness from the same heart? She did not know. Most she met in the meadow were clear in their derision, their disgust. Marvel was an anomaly.

    Adaline does not wait for the response, instead letting her words tumble over themselves, naked in their hopefulness and vulnerability. “Do you think it is impossible for the broken to be loved?” She sighs, daring to touch her mouth to the mare’s neck and letting it linger for a moment too long. “I hope not.”

    in the darkness, I will meet my creators
    and they will all agree that I'm a suffocator

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    RE: this is your kingdom, this is your crown; a laura pony - by adaline - 12-13-2015, 02:52 AM



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