Locket of Her
A Story by Muse
Behold a lovely man; burdened with her locket. It was a secret chamber, imprisoned with unfulfilled desires, holding filaments of his woman. An eyelash collected by the undercurrent of lymphatic tears, a clipped fingernail, the balm off her lips. Remnants of her, wrapped within the pheromone of wet Spring.
Consumed he was....deep in oppressive thought. Opening the locket, he brushes his cheek with a snippet of her saffron hair. Sigh....he ached for her so. Resting against the tree that neighbored him, he could feel the light of the moon, as he suffers in silence.
The night woos him with a lullaby....
Alas, someone was observing him. Dark Goddess was loving his heartbreak. She felt the loneliness too. And she watched, as the wet mossy ground began to swallow his shoe...and her dark matter filled his consciousness.
Opportunity path-ed a way for this malevolent Goddess to make her move. So she began speaking to him; her words conjured up a black magic laced with bad intentions.
"Bury her," the voice kissed in his ear.
He looked down at the muddy realm below that was sinking beneath his weight. It marked the spot for desecration, and burial of a missed soul.
"Hurry," she said. "Before the sun is awake!"
Down on soiled hands and knees, he buries the locket. Filling the hole back up with a mixture of rocks, clay, and grassy sod. Dark Goddess was pleased. But before he could rise; she tripped him. Sweeping him off of his feet, as his head crashed against the trunk of the tree. A branch gutted his flesh, unwrapping him to the bone. His life poured...
Dark Goddess and Earth opened their mouths to savor the moment. He tasted so pure...full of nourishment, life was ready to bloom.
The morning approaches.
Dawn grabs onto the pink fingertips that try to penetrate through. Breaking free of the earthly womb, a flowering female sprouts open. Wiping the dirt from her face, she shakes her saffron hair. The bright sun and zealous air feels good to her. She blinks her newborn eyes.
Her flesh is real, yet she feels an emptiness. The wind blows what feels like warm breath on on the back of her neck...dewy petals caressing her skin....it reminded her of something.....HIM.
Confused and forsaken-ed, she looks around for her lover......
© 2014 Muse
Featured Review
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Hmm, one thing that jumps out at me is the possible Odyssey reference with "dawn grabs onto the pink fingertips...." reminding me of Homer's line, usually translated as "young dawn with fingertips of rose." Did you have Greek on the mind when you wrote this?
Hmm, I have to wonder, is the lover Twilight, separated from his paramour dawn by the jealous Night, who loves coming between them?
Also, the bit about "bury her" reminded me a bit of Porphyria's Lover, about trying to preserve a lover in a perfect moment of beauty through death.
So, I'll say that I enjoyed this because it was evocative of many things for me. Nice writing.
Namaste, Muse.
Posted 10 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
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10 Years Ago
thank you...there is an ending, but it requires reading two more chapters. It's a morbid love story,.. read morethank you...there is an ending, but it requires reading two more chapters. It's a morbid love story, so don't hold your breath.
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10 Years Ago
I was gandering right now...let you know my thoughts soon.
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Reviews
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1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
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1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
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1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
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1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
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1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
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1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
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1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
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1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
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1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
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1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
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Stats
3223 Views
76 Reviews
Shelved in 6 Libraries
Added on March 5, 2012
Last Updated on June 20, 2014
Tags: poem, poetry, fantasy, faith, religion, story, woman, life, heart, hope, depression, noise, art, desire, emotion, evil, good, light, dark
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