My ocean flower.

         

Vivid were Galmr's thoughts, what is? To snap in halves? Snapping, the red velvet petals of Aquilegia, crimson as her eyes were starry. She spoke with soul, he'd hoped her whisper to vanish into the coldest of diphtheria and oppose her fearsome seeker. This brume coalescing, forming a dampened silhouette, wet with rime. She rocked gently upon the lapping waves. Pale as porcelain and as silk as her nightgown, the texture seemingly organic against the dead, waxen skin. The veils were drawn and her bed of kindle torched. The men ceased playing songs of farewell and all but the night was left, the sound of rain ramming the earth as a thousand heart beats. He gazed to the far water, The burning warrior who would never hear the deepest sincerity that he secretly omitted. No one came to bid her farewell with deep rooted regrets; no one but him. He wept to the night;

"Angled perceptions tilt - withered her visage
Cascaded in erotic crimson and splendor
How I wished to kiss the liquid balm
And sample the fermenting cadaver"

Too soon hath you wilted
How unfair for your smile, such eternal light
For I heavy with guilt spent my time in the darkness
For me without you, is not a life.

         As sharp uproar shook my company to rouse me and the early morning frost and cold-sweat, clung my garments close to clammy bare skin like the maw of a dead fish. Biting with a fearsome chill and the windows thundered with precipitation. CRAAACK! The ambiance of horsemen crippled the air once again and I grasped myself into a bundle within the confines of the cotton bedding. I regained my senses from the jolting reality. I lay my feet upon the sheepskin and stood upright, bringing the cotton covers with me. I struck the candle bright, lifted it from the stand and wielded it's guidance into the main chamber. I emptied water into the steel ketill. As it filled, so did my urgency to visit the shoreline where she departed, it overcome me to my core. If it were anything but sentimental regret and longing, however this, was a paradigm, like hunger, a pit of despair never to be filled again.