Fire, Snow and Blood.She was fire, snow and blood. Red locks that flickered in aFire, Snow and Blood. by pyrpaul
fanning breeze. Skin smoother than winters first ice that even the
sun refused to besmirch, and lips that the mere words of men fail
to encapsulate. Thats how I try to remember her. Smiling, loving
me. In a sun kissed meadow. The long green grass blowing upon the
slight incline, looking as though it was made from the softest of
cloths, stretched upon a great treasure, hiding it from the prying
hands of greed. A universe built just for two, us two.
But instead I remember fire, snow and blood. The crumpled
engine block smoldering beneath black smoke. Snow falling as it
had the days past. Her blood. The feel of it on my skin, beneath
my nails and upon my lips. The taste of her life.
That was when he came. I say he, but it was no he. It simply
The side mirror was cracked, showing a hundred portrayals of
how the lack of its figure approached the car on the other side of
the road, its wheels still spinning, finding no purchase