wolven7: (The Very Devil)
[personal profile] wolven7
She comes to him like whispers
in the dark and winding connections
of this place. The thrum of a girder
in a derelict warehouse, struck
by a careless rock: An Echo
(all echoes) of meaning and former form.

She is an association in his mind, now--
an insinuation of memory, twisting
like smoke through the halls of thoughts.
She is the subsonic reverberation, itching
behind his eyes, the resonance
in his guts. And everything that he is
will be shaken apart, drowned out,
strained toward, covered in,
and rebuilt toward
her.
©Damien Williams. All Rights
---------------------------------------------------------------

This poem is from [livejournal.com profile] kittenspeaks' prompts. They felt more like a poem, than a story. Or maybe she did. I'm too tired to tell the difference anymore.

Night

Date: 2011-03-19 12:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] kittenspeaks.livejournal.com
This is spectacular and beautiful.
Thank you. :-)

Date: 2011-03-20 12:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wolven.livejournal.com
Thank You! Both for the praise & the awesome prompts. :)

Date: 2011-03-20 05:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] raidingparty.livejournal.com
Very odd, nothing on my list for the next 11 hours or so.

Date: 2011-03-21 04:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wolven.livejournal.com
That is Really strange

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