Torrential red hair like a sun goddess’s portrait. Eyes burned sullen. Mouth molded with chilly contempt. Nightgown flitting like a white water rapid. The straps slip off, exposing her crescent pink skin. Beneath the woman; a pile of skulls, spines, knuckles. Shallow bones of crumbling pain. Meters away, A sword cracked, rusted, stands stalwart. Its pommel once blue; now purple. Her soul once whole; now crushed obsidian. |
Carson Tidwell(Psst. If on mobile, turn horizontal for better viewing experience)
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