her patience and understanding. her virtue of love that fuses and discombobulates the togetherness of a forbidden force of nature and reality she yearns. two bodies, one soul ridden with dire consequences of togetherness; but still they seek to make...
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Weekends were his days. Days that she once had, and days she dreaded beyond belief. Days that succumbed to the weight of desolation and grew grave with melancholy beneath the thick cloud of sorrow that reigned down upon it. It was weekends, from the young age of eight that his face popped in an out of the sight of the weak, taking upon the role of the former proclaimer of such days, and preying upon their vulnerability like famished wolves prowling the burrow of trembling bunnies, growing and snarling at the evident lack of strength that enshrouds the mind and body of thee, and feeds into its essence with a great sense of patience and wonder that lures the spiriting trust of the naive. It were those weekends that lacked the presence of her parents and grandparents that her body had succumbed to a deep and resonant chill of underlying intimidation and discomfort, the sensations profound and consumptive before the barred teeth of a preying predator, though he came to her in ways that worshipped the spirit of peace and content between the existences of their respective encounters and coexistence. It was with those very encounters that Francisco Taveres had taken the time to analyze and understand the nature of his prey, the feebleness and the depth to which the creature posed upon their famine as he formulated a time, date, and place that he was to be commemorated with the neck of the burrowed bunny and appraised for the determination its taken to achieve the throat of such a remarkably expeditious animal. It was with those very encounters that he'd studied and analyzed her routine, taking in the manner to which she went about life and living within the walls that confined her to the people she interacted with, it and all having brought upon a great desire to the intellect of masculinity and its power to overtake and abuse the essence of its opposing forces. And it was with those very encounters, upon the eve of a Saturday night he had finally pounced, those barred teeth, snarls, growls, internal grumbling, and determination having struck down the racing determination of the bunny afar from the chase the predator pursued, his teeth bloodied and boar as they drained their prey of life and fought against its fight with the strain of their end, inflicted and succumbed to the poison of their intent, he devours her whole. Body left with nothing but a carcass and a gap in time they'd never recollect no matter how hard they tried.
"¿Cómo estás Florencía?" Hazy. The body stiffened and adhered to the plush of their ambience and forsaken nothingness of that of control as all means of communication from mind to body had diminished into the beaming light arisen amidst the darkness of the night. They were diluted to nothingness and vulnerability that influenced the desire of man and their greed from just above their slowed state, having been something out of a place of neglect and fear as she once poised for frustration and inhospitality became a vessel of pure helplessness and weakness, something that poised his mind with a sense of wonder and content he hadn't the slightest doubt nurtured the patience to understand. But still he called out to her once more, the deep and dark energy of his intent tearing through the thick and industrial hands of tension that lured no response beyond the lackluster control of the body that maintained their slowed blink up at the moon shown down upon them. Eyes leaking with the light of their diminishing soul, and parted lips accepting of the saliva their body had become far too numb to clear the deeper they succumbed to the energetic poison that invaded the sudden toxicity of their existence.
