Edgar sat and twisted his words on a writing desk, while he talked of blackbirds shaping before her in the sky and beneath the apple tree… Where she succumbed to his mystery and told of their lies.
Some say he fell for a woman, overcome by her fateful glance. The one who dressed in black but had flames from within that denied him by a flick of her whip and by a sliding chance.
She prayed for patience but he couldn’t grant her that. Instead he formed into the raven and laid opportunities at her feet. To see him as he was: A book that was read upon the altar at the tip of his hat and the steady heart beat.
She couldn’t remember their fiction. She only saw the darkness and friction that settled within their bones. The ones that lay six feet under water that now lapped at their throne.
A throne isn’t to sit side by side, mastering the others. It’s a love in which two become one in this tale of hide and seek, where love triumphs evil under the covers.
Lincoln sat on a hill where he gave his address. She gathered her courage and slipped into his den. The one where grief struck her in the heart as she laid her hands upon his head and peered into Slaughter Pen.
He walked side by side until the black hawk attacked beneath the very leaves he played in and gathered. It wasn’t until the untamed dog beared his teeth and pushed through the garden that he snarled and gorged him with his teeth that shattered.
He was protecting her from the shapeshifter, lost souls that are led off leash on the roads that bend and break beneath the backs of hands that know them well and have traveled with honey driping down their spines. There are roads like this beneath the Sycamore trees that shatter at thunder. The ones where Indians lay in turmoil and where the yellow springs run under.
His soul is still haunting those streets and that home we once loved. He loved his woman that was sent from above.
He protected his Kingdom and took on the prize.
The one with a hollow heart and wandering eyes.
He was sent to protect her and challenge her to fight. For what she loved was filled to the brim, far off into the light.
He watched every move she made.
It wasn’t until she lost her hope that his life began to fade.
Along came a spider that drove them to wonder. Were the webs we weave our own plot to pull us under?
Edgar met her in the shallow end where she played alone as a siren. He knew too well that drowning her would be for the best. The conquering of fears of all that flipped her into a whirlpool of tests.
She climbed out as a ghost and got stung by a bee. It wasn’t until she was broken that she turned to him and said, ‘Stand With Me.’
You see, these moments will come and they will go. It’s the tearing apart the script that reveals he who loves her so.