"Tell me who you love. Quickly, with sadness"
The lover asks of me.
"Him" I say and it is not that the tip of my tongue quivers with hesitation, but the tremble of my lips shows sadness and fear. The knees that hold me upright grow weak and heavy, sending my body to a ground that I'll never really hit.
"Show me who it is that you love. Slowly, with joy."
The lover demands.
The crystals dripping down my face, while I scream with a relief so great that stomachs churn, never stop. It is gold and that of the flame. Not that my tears are of the flame but that, they extinguish it as if it is too hot for me. When in fact, the flicker of said light, is too dim for the scalding marks upon my skin.
"I cannot stop" I plead, with outstretched arms, nails dirty.
"You cannot stop" The Lover copies.
"I cannot stop" I beg again, lungs shredding.
"You cannot stop." The lover clarifies.
It is later when my throat, ever raw from the licking of scalding hot and calming cool is settled. That, with a smile, the lover says to you; "Tell me who you love. Quickly, with sadness."
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