Silverlight Terrace blackout

[ There's a sting in the way you kiss me

 

Something within your eyes

 

Said it could be the last time ]

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The breeze weaved through the pliant grasses alike fingers combing through a slumberous lover’s hair — a soft, delicate motion, fingertips curling the soft tresses at their ends as the touch wanes into the quiet, open air. The moon laid upon the land as though a sheet of silk, casting an ambient glow upon the tips of undulating pasture, its silvery hue flippantly dancing like waves of a calmed sea. His is a lamented motion, powerful limbs ambulating him forward with a withdrawn, unhurried pace; parting through those illuminated swells as though a tamed leviathan. As usual, he was just passing through — he had no home to return to, nor did he particularly feel invested to sow the flesh of the land he walked upon into a restful abode. There was no point for him. The only thing that seemed to quell the parasitic ache in his chest was the quest to unearth newness: always searching, always distracting from the inevitability that should he linger too long, his mind would begin to consume him. Not even for sleep could he justify stopping — no matter his fatigue, no matter the blurriness which trickled into his vision. How long had it been? His chiseled brow furrowed. He couldn’t remember. Had his feet always been this clumsy? What was happening? He shook his head, the bountiful mane of black furs draped over his shoulders swooshing as he tried to dispel the void creeping into his sight. His once undaunted crown began to swim. Something was wrong.