Caught Dreaming

I'm falling through Angel's wings
And I see you
Far away through mists
I feel you
The tickle of memory
Now haunts me
The sensation never ceases
To kill me

Was I born today? It felt like it. That stretching blasting furnace of sensation that ..

... never ceases to kill me.

That sounds so familiar .. why would it sound familiar if I was only born that moment? How could I have memories if the chrysalis was only then .. rent and torn?

Born from what?

Born to what?

The desert.

I remember the desert.

There is comfort in the pain and silence of the desert.

A comfort it is hard to compete against.

Silence .. but I was not alone. How could that be? There is no one in the desert. The epitome of the desert is the alone .. the silence. But those were not my footsteps .. those were not my breaths. That was not the rhythm of my heart.

It was abhorrent to me .. and yet ... like a siren's call it piqued my curiosity. Who could this be that had invaded such a clearly uninhabitable place? Who would dare?

The scent of her brought the desert to life. Sand fell away ... drifting ... sifting ... giving movement .... allowing tongues to form and wings to stretch.

"Do not be frightened of him."

But the sleeping beast stirred from his lounged repose.

A slow inhale before he tasted the color and swallowed it.

A look .. a warning ... a shiver that reached across the desert in a heat wave that danced before the eyes like a mostly invisible specter of light.

Run

Would she listen? Would she heed? The desert took things in hand. A slap across the face ..

pay attention

Taste it .. feel it ... know it ... and ..

run

The beast had her scent .. he was on her in an instant ... tracking with a relentless unstoppable intent. Shoving space ahead and out of his way as he ate through the distance .. sucking color in with every drawn breath.

Do not stop running

Come closer

push .. pull

threaten .. manipulate ... control

stop? no .. do not do that

anything .. but that

Once more the desert stirred and sand drifted and shifted and stepped in between.

A collective intervened.

A team .. effort. A self destructive move upon the kaissa board.

But it was too little too late for a complete victory.

Take her there

No not there

Yes there

You were too late

She still breathes

Lay her down .. give her some room

She is bleeding

She will be all right

How did she get here?

She was dreaming with your key

How is he?

He is down

Did you kill him?

I could not

It is good

He is wounded

He will survive

But it hurts ...

Hush child it was for the best.