Never doubt the Wild

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Bessa Impressions -Never doubt the Wild 

(written in the car- it's raw -sorry about that but what's a mama to do for hours)


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Spring brings Remembering

Trees remembering to be green

Sunlight remembering to be warm

Her Fingers remembering the weaving threads.

His heart remembering His beloved dead.

They both shed tears at the threshold of Their home

And go out through the backdoor. Together, yet alone.

Each day Her voice remains veiled in silence.

Remembering the cold night He admitted she taught Him how to touch a female.

Her wordless gestures scream Her pain and defiance.


Darkness brings Her voice and His interrogation,

Carnal desires and memory demons collide,

Frustration demands confession.

He asks why... why She needs Him to confide,

To remember the moments He shared with another.

Her mind filled with troubled thoughts of them.

The suspicious clockwork of Her jealous mind ever-turning

after Her betrayed hope was realized.

Thoughts of all all their moments burning;

imagined or real, contemplated or shared,

none are too great or small to be left out.

She can't stop Herself, She needs to know

Every painful detail of what their life was about.

So She needs to remind Him, since she is dead,

That She will Remember what she was to Him, 

And never let Him leave the truth of His sin unsaid.


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A boon that His mother supplies,

Black cloth to cover Her modesty and hair,

Sparing Her tattered Lineage from more daily wear,

Veiling Her sorrow always from His eyes.

You smell ofsalt.

A ally from the future Alpha of the East,

Black twin braids standing on Her left with a proud leer,

Sacrificing their battered bodies, fighting without fear,

Viciously overcome before He carries Her home to feast.

He sits at their table alone.

A gift spontaneously plucked by His hand,

Blooming in this harsh clime, the first flower of Spring.

She watches it wilt and asking, She waits for the sting,

Vowing His truth, She rejects the answer to Her demand

I never felt like bringing her flowers.

A claiming bite by His Wild to Her neck

Because He wondered why He never picked flowers for His other heart,

Sinking fangs deep through the night, keeps her from breaking apart.

Verily His why reduced Her to a doubtful wreck.

I never wanted to.




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He tries to return beauty to Their barren home;

A table made forHer where He always eats alone.

He tries to make upfor Her Lineage, torn and frayed.

Images from a silk story in ceramic portrayed.

He has dishes painted with Her pomegranate tree.

An offering ofcolor after the long, white freeze.

He tries to get Her to speak from behind her silk veil,

Their days hold Her silence and the dark, Her anguished wails.

She weaves wool into pictures daily, upon Her simple loom,

Fighting Her weakness nightly, and keeping Her heart a tomb.

He brings Her an impulsive gift, seeking Her forgiveness still.

A single pale blue flower She left to wither on the sill.

After surviving the harsh winter together, it is still too soon,

.                  Because He fell in love with another, 

.                              She can't forgive Him for breaking Their Moon.




Impressions from Across the Sea and Sand : BESSA & ELSKA by Rachelle MillsWhere stories live. Discover now