BEAUTY SONG ,

Ones, twice, trice—— tapping, tapping till she’s coax off shallow slumber; stirred into drowsy wakeness;  tapping, tapping still, then scraping, then knock, knock, knocking, not stopping even when she whines, grumble quietly  ——  it never did dawn too quickly, how it had been dainty hands that found its way into her window, that it had been raining, that it had been too deep in the night to be awake,  realized only when she draws away from the warmth of her sheets and see   her.      

Judith stares at her visitor,  hazy gaze blurry without aid.   Should she open her windows ?   No—— NO , yet  she saunters over unlatched its locks; cold air entering, a wild animal ?  a girl ?  a friend ?  welcomed regardless. She’s a NUN; wasn’t she suppose to welcome anyone anyway.

                    ❝ Want to come in ?   ❞

CONTINUED FROM HERE. 

* 𝚇𝚄𝙴𝙺𝙾𝚄                                          /                                   THE DEMON..

                                                        ————

          ‘       𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃   𝐈   𝐁𝐄   𝐀𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐃? Quite frankly, I’m unimpressed.       ’

          ❝I’ll remember.❞   Their guilt a storm, a serpent with barbed scales and acid tongue; it lives in them, still——eating itself for all eternity inside their guts, leaving them lightheaded and miserable. No matter how many times they’d been cut, burnt, flayed, not one of their condemners had thought to pry them apart and pull it from them. It would have been the least they could do, sentencing an innocent person to the gallows time and again; did ah’Jhyen truly not deserve even the most minimum of mercy for themself? Look, even now they are all smiles and mirth——laughing, honey-sweet, at the boldness which Miàoyì wears like a second skin. (where eternity has made them docile, it made her bold; ah’Jhyen could almost be envious of it all.)   ❝And all my lives are not exactly the same, but… ah. How history loves to repeat itself.❞   Another peal of laughter, quieter than the last. (nothing about their life is funny, but it was better than crying, than tearing out one’s own hair.)   ❝I try not to be the centerpiece of all these stories, but, it seems fate has a horrid sense of humor or an awful taste of who ought to be in charge.❞   Head lulls to the side, their stare warm like a lover’s.   ❝Have you ever had an affair?❞

               𝐒𝐇𝐄   𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐋𝐒   𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑   𝐓𝐎   𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌,  claims a spot close enough to knock her head gently against theirs.  “   You  think  too  much,   ”  she sighs,  as if she knows what gruesome flashes dance through their mind.  Sometimes,  when she arrives late,  she watches the injustice.  She weeps.  She remembers everything too.  “   Disappointing  but  not  surprising.   The  Han  believed  in  cosmic  cycles  .  .  .  We’re  stuck,  ehn ?   ”  The woman wraps her arms around them now,  twists a golden lock of hair around her finger like a cat with string.  “   Before  you  go  this  time,  why  not  be  a  muse ?  You  always  have  those  weepy,  martyr  eyes  the  Milanese  love  to  paint.   ”  Rare for her to ever leave the east,  but she trails along the old Silk Road to where the Romans once curled up like a wolf pack.  They had been long gone.  The empire traded for cities.   The art is beautiful,  she admits that much,  keeping pictures folded in her ragged clothes,  her hiding holes where she buries some treasure.   “  No  one  will  ever  know  the  muse,  even  when  her  face  beautifies  the  mansions.   You  would  be  safe.   ”

                    “  well of  course  not!!  i feel that you think a bit too cynically;  we work in teams for the very purpose of preventing the worse case from happening.  can’t you have a bit of faith in me? surely,  studying will help conversationally,  but surely not when we have more pressing matters.   ”

          They made no remark in regards to humanity, nor allow their countenance to betray any one emotion. They could agree on the ignorance and hatred which seemed to readily brew, but then that saintly nature of theirs would compel them to forgive (and spin excuses) for the same people who’d martyred them—made an example of them by leaving them a weeping, bleeding mess upon the dirtied roads. These very same people who condemned them, thought them a witch, would always then gather their shining, godly blood into their hands and sell it to noblemen as gold. And still, still, ah’Jhyen does not hold them in contempt; still does not find it right to agree with their friend.   ❝I never minded small houses, so long as they had windows to the outside.❞   (they make no mention of god; his blood and screams still too familiar——refusing to be forgotten.)   ❝I hope you’ve been mindful of your own health as well?❞   It’s spoken in teasing, their eyes narrowing in a rare display of impish playfulness.

          ‘      𝐎𝐍𝐄   𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒   𝐍𝐎𝐓   𝐓𝐎   𝐒𝐄𝐄   𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒, to know that they hold sharp sharp teeth. I would come but my flesh is rotten and dull, you would likely die from consuming my body.       ’

                    𝐇𝐄𝐑         𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄         𝐈𝐒         𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄  .         smile  cracks  in  full  ,  a  crescent  moon  bathing  in  the  darkness  of  her  mouth  ,  devouring  lilies  and  snakes  alike  .  they  tumble  in  her  prickled  throat  ,  sinking  into  blood  as  she  leans  close  ,  closer  ———  her  breath  mingling  into  that  silk  darkness  of  the  consort ’ s  hair  .         “         hush  ,  now  .         ”         a  cooing  sneer  ,  as  soft  as  twilight  .         “         perhaps  she  lingers  around  you  because  you  are  her  favorite  .  squirm  too  much  and  i  may  lose  her  scent  ,  and  it  will  be  your  life  in  danger  when  she  comes  back  for  you  .         ”         but  she  knows  ,  she  knows  that  scent  all  too  well  .  she  has  always  been  a  hound  ,  trained  to  sniff  an  inkling  of  blood  ,  and  here  ,  there  is  much  too  many  drops  to  be  called  human  .         “         you  may  take  care  of  yourself  as  you  please  ,  but  it  is  my  understanding  that  a  consort  ,  as  vivid  and  most  treasured  as  this  ,  should  not  have  to  lift  even  a  finger  to  move  her  disheveled  hair  from  her  own  face  .  allow  me  ,  to  snuff  out  that  misery  that  leaves  her  smell  all  over  you  .         ”         and  she  too  ,  reaches  ,  brushes  that  hair  that  lingers  in  front  of  the  woman ’ s  eyes  ,  a  smile  as  motherly  and  tender  as  daybreak  peaking  on  her  pale  face  as  she  steps  away  .         “         yes  ,  let ’ s  venture  off  ——  certainly  our  master  is  worried  about  what  became  of  her  beloved  ‘  yu  the  beauty  .   ’         ”