A Meeting Beneath a Street Lamp

Posted: September 27, 2007 in Beauty, City, Dark, Fantasy, Imagery, Life, Muses, Urban

The street light flickers in and out like an anesthetized patient drifting in and out of consciousness. A bright white set of teeth snarls and flashes out as a dark silhouette walks down the road to reach the circle of illumination.
A figure beneath the sporadic sodium lamp flicks open a lighter with practiced precision and ignites a thin tube. Smoke curls away from her to meet the shadow approaching.
She stands beneath the light and breathes out in a dragon’s puff. She brushes dark hair away from sapphire eyes, hair that tapers down to pale tips on the sides. A silver ring hangs from her nose and a steel stud juts out from below her lower lip.
Another drag, the shady figure drifts closer, she leans against the towering street light.
A young man with fire in his eyes steps away from the outer blackness into the close circle of light. Long sleeves cover thin arms that extend to spindly fingers curling into fists.
She stares at him, a calm and collected look on a face wreathed with cigarette smoke and punctuated by two blue points of of light on an expanse of pale skin. She moves to him; he tenses.
She kisses his cheek.
The soft touch is like a gunshot to the man; he flings out his arms, he begins to shake with a trembling fervor. The woman is still near his face and she speaks.
“Stop lying to yourself.”
She taps the edge of her cigarette, ash floating down to meet the ground. Her own arms are covered in tattoos,  twisting vines of thorny ivy, crossing and criss-crossing, endlessly twining about to end at her wrists.
The man drops, the woman kneels down to meet him. Her hand gently strokes his brow, and his pained expression fades, his face slackening.
She pulls him to a sitting position, and their eyes lock together for a long time, ocean blue meeting smoldering red.
They stand and walk to the edge of the circle.
They pause and link hands.
The Muses of Love and Hate walk off together into the darkness.

  1. larkie says:

    something of yours you HAVEN’T whored to me? what is this madness?

    …..and wow, you should have whored it sooner, because you continue to keep making my favorite piece of yours. it’s like, is this redundant? ‘this is my fave omg’ and I told you that like five times now. your descriptions are seriously WOAHH and dear god I love concrete images. I am such a slut for them. good job el Luko.

    oh only one thing- it’s not ‘tremoring fervor,’ it’s ‘tremulous fervor’ because tremoring isn’t actually a word I think. that would be ‘trembling’ yeah? or something?

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