#trickling

"My tender heart wells like a soft spring, springing forth from my soul, trickling with the waters of my affection.."

There was a film between life and death; I could feel it so easily now that I often took to slipping my fingers beneath it as we walked. A veil, something entirely insubstantial, a sensation more than anything else. The delicacy of a moth wing or the gossamer of a dragonfly. It had the same texture as sticky, trickling sap, the finest sheen of it. How little the living knew of the truth: they moved so close to death that the only thing between was as thin and ethereal as a shadow.