He wants a novel. He wants an unhappily-ever-after, barbed with sex and violence. For her tears to fall hard like crystals gleaming in his shadow.
He wants more than her tears. More than her stories. More than her kisses. More than her torn flesh.
He wants more than her tears. More than her stories. More than her kisses. More than her torn flesh.
He wants the brilliance that turns her tears into diamonds; the fire that she can never give away. He wants her towering inferno from its highest blaze to the deepest embers.
He wants the golden fiery ball that is her sun; her untamed flame.
To let anyone conquer and contain that would be to destroy the very core of her world. One thoughtless, unguarded moment; one careless, inconsiderate touch... and everything will turn into ash.
But he wants, he wants, he wants...
But he wants, he wants, he wants...
***
All she ever wanted was to lay it all at his feet. For him to have everything. For him to be God. And what she gave him was scandalous. The thing that damned them both throughout eternity.
She bit into the forbidden fruit.
She shows him the evidence of her sin. She has wronged God. She tells him she regrets this, not because she fears the loss of paradise nor because she has offended God. These were never her intention. But because having disgraced herself, she is no longer worthy of him. She has to go, but she cannot leave him wondering. So she tells him of her shame. She doesn't want him feeling sorry. She holds back her tears, and begs him to never do what she has done.
She bit into the forbidden fruit.
She shows him the evidence of her sin. She has wronged God. She tells him she regrets this, not because she fears the loss of paradise nor because she has offended God. These were never her intention. But because having disgraced herself, she is no longer worthy of him. She has to go, but she cannot leave him wondering. So she tells him of her shame. She doesn't want him feeling sorry. She holds back her tears, and begs him to never do what she has done.
One last kiss.
***
He shakes his head. Says he has his own free will. He gobbles up the whole fruit, but instead of consuming it, he ends up consumed by it.
He regrets beyond description. He is inconsolable. She falls silent over what he has done; her shame worsened by guilt. His words echo in her soul: HE HAS HIS OWN FREE WILL.
He has his own free will; and in their happily-ever-after, he WILL blame it all on her.
Her shame is unbearable. Her guilt, inconceivable. His blame, her eternal damnation. He blames her for the loss of Eden. He blames her for his shame. He blames her for his fall from grace; for the hardships his wisdom gained. He blames her for always failing his wants; for the things she has too much, and the things she falls short of.
Her one, shy bite moves the heavens and shifts their little world, orbiting into a mighty eclipse and casts an eternal shadow on their happily-ever-after.
She tried. She has given to the point of being empty, but still, he is not full. Her love just isn't enough. She is much too small. Much too weak. Much too shameful. Shamelessly shameful. Much too... she.
He has too many questions that her simple mind cannot even think of asking; his heart an abyss of complexities holding desires she can never fill. He needs a greater love -- the love of God. But he hates God. And he is angry. Angry with more than her.
Day by day, he shakes her shoulders as if she were the tree that bore the damn fruit, demanding more. And she, foolish and planted in her guilt and shame, does not leave, but tries to give more.
Day by day, she dies in the shadow of their happily-ever-after, trying to give more.
He shakes his head. Says he has his own free will. He gobbles up the whole fruit, but instead of consuming it, he ends up consumed by it.
He regrets beyond description. He is inconsolable. She falls silent over what he has done; her shame worsened by guilt. His words echo in her soul: HE HAS HIS OWN FREE WILL.
He has his own free will; and in their happily-ever-after, he WILL blame it all on her.
Her shame is unbearable. Her guilt, inconceivable. His blame, her eternal damnation. He blames her for the loss of Eden. He blames her for his shame. He blames her for his fall from grace; for the hardships his wisdom gained. He blames her for always failing his wants; for the things she has too much, and the things she falls short of.
Her one, shy bite moves the heavens and shifts their little world, orbiting into a mighty eclipse and casts an eternal shadow on their happily-ever-after.
She tried. She has given to the point of being empty, but still, he is not full. Her love just isn't enough. She is much too small. Much too weak. Much too shameful. Shamelessly shameful. Much too... she.
He has too many questions that her simple mind cannot even think of asking; his heart an abyss of complexities holding desires she can never fill. He needs a greater love -- the love of God. But he hates God. And he is angry. Angry with more than her.
Day by day, he shakes her shoulders as if she were the tree that bore the damn fruit, demanding more. And she, foolish and planted in her guilt and shame, does not leave, but tries to give more.
Day by day, she dies in the shadow of their happily-ever-after, trying to give more.
