[1] ATARA
I rise from darkness, the night like ink
pooling in the creases of my clothes,
tendrils sliding, weaving, curling in my hair,
running over my skin like fingers.
I blink: heavy lids, blurry eyes, dark skies,
blank skies – unbroken dark and starless high.
I am in blackness and dusty dirt tonight.
And every time I breathe, all I taste is dirt –
No air here and I’m choking, choking, coating
my tongue, filling up my lungs with heavy dark.
I cough out a sound, an explosion in the silence
that detonates with little fuss, and slips away,
into the midnight ether, unnoticed.
It is clear: there is no one to hear, no one here
except my own stupid fear.
The night gapes wide, looms over, across the sky.
When it swallows me whole, I know, I know:
I’m alone.
![The Moon's Weapon : the cursed mate [ MOVING TO GALATEA]](https://cdn-gcs.inkitt.com/vertical_storycovers/ipad_123f31099804e79c6de11657975bcaae.jpg)
so dark and interesting, love it!