10 March 2015

She brewed him a tea from mysterious recipes and mythical books…
He was enthralled from the gentle moves of her hands and her piercing brown eyes checking frequently on him.
She moved around as a fluid and he can hear the splash of her long skirts.
Her willowy fingers offered to his lips the first cup and the sip went as a brisk flow down his throat.
With the second sip he closed his eyes and let the burning sense of lonesomeness spill out of his veins and run away off his blood.
Next sip she gave him with whispers of forgiveness and all wounds he ever caused turned into fading scars.
His soul was filling with light and she was drinking it right out of his eyes.

She was his plague; she was his assassin; she was the tempest in his heart.
Enjoy your teatime,
Till next time,

© 2015 - sophia terra~ziva.  all rights reserved

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