She was an aura, the colors of the rainbow, the black of the stormy clouds,
the curls of frosty air, the warmth of a cozy hearth.
She was a contradiction in herself,
both yin and yang.
And all of that was what sucked him into the abyss of her being.
The weed she smoked, the warm soup she made,
the hatred her mouth spewed,
the love in her eyes.
All of that.
She was his Eris.
And his Harmonia.
And when death consumed her, her magnificent spirit lived on.
In him.
Gorgeous piece. Such wonderful descriptions which can be felt through the senses. Especially visual.
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Sensual indeed. I think we all have one (or have had one) of these. And they never go away. well done.
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Reblogged this on Fiction in a Flash.
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