My shadow's name is Eris.
Eris. Dark-haired, black-eyed. Heart of flint, falcon-light fingers.
Face sharp, light and black. Black, Black, always black;
Snake-tongue 'gainst oblivion lips. Held high, bone sharp, a knife given a Kiss of Death.
Tight black clothing, and a cloak of night, without the gift of stars.
Feet o' floating, black as well.
Weaver of poison, enprisoner of the sunlight.
Laugh enough to melt a heart. And then bind it silently!
Yet glimmers 'neth, a spark lingers,
remembering a time when the dark was a far-flung dream.
A dream known as Eris.
Who is now my shadow.



Email this story
Add to reading list



















