weekly war games: Querencia (join the forum! link on my profile)
prompt: your fingertips trace my skin
word count: 237
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you, like an angel, like a halo, like salvation, like sin, like something just out my reach. you, like something i want, like something i will never deserve, like something i crave.
you like heaven, me like hell, us like a balance.
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scales tip. voids lie beneath. if we don't cancel out, we fall, and if we fall, we don't get to complete our story. our story, a place where good and evil equal grey and you pull me back from the edge, pulling me closer to you, and your fingertips trace my skin, and then you are blown away by the wind, wispy red hair flying above your head like the halo you own but don't wear.
i reach, but you don't even try to touch my fingers.
i can still feel your fingers tracing my cheekbones, warm hands against my sharp features, curving the edges, changing me, making yourself my equal as you do, letting light seek into my dark crevices, night overtaking your day.
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you say you hate me. i am always silent, searching, listening. you are always up in my presence, taking over me, making me feel like a black hole, like i am empty, like you are more a mirror, more full, all full. let us try to create equality.
let us fail.
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you, like an angel, like a light, and me, like a devil, like a darkness.
us, like scales, tipping.