Long Story; Wait for the Movie.

An adaptation of Fleur de Feu by Tannith Lee




Your wings shadow the sun from me;
or me from the sun.
Either - we do not burn.
My skin still singes, though,
from its radiation and dead, yellow rays.
My Feroluce;
take with your sharp.
Take and give with no voice.
No noise to enthrall
but only instinct and those wings and teeth.


Rohise; human!
Masterpiece.
A goddess, light.
An anchor, yet our flight can see moons.
Stars and altitude -
I only know colors,
not words or syllables or letters.

Exalt! Banishment.

Alone, to winter.

To curling, dying
winter.