Pangea
By Kyleigh Richard
Your chin fits in the crevice between my nose in a way that can only be described as Pangea.
Every piece of you fits with me as if it was always that way in the beginning.
I'm not made for you, I came from you, and you from me.
Why must we split only to come back together? Why must we split to begin with?
All I know is that your fingers entwined with mine feel cemented in my soul.
How can I forget now that I found this? Maybe we can stay here a while, Just a while.
-K.
About the Creator
Kyleigh Richard
Just a human experiment in consciousness.
(Self-proclaimed Moss Maiden)
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Trigger warnings: Violence, Death. "May the Sun burn your tongue out, woman," Fredrick's father screamed the curse into his mother's ear as their elegant little carriage rumbled along, its polished wood and gilded trim glinting in the torchlight. They had just left the small village of Saffron and were on an unnamed road to the capital for the Royal wedding. Fredrick leaned back in his plush velvet seat to escape into the passing landscape, but across from him sat the servant boy, a scrappy lad named Jack. Jack's eyes held a mixture of awe and fear, the kind that only a commoner could feel in the presence of nobility. Jack looked up and caught Fredrick's gaze, offering him a sad little smile before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a little caramel treat. This candy was no doubt stolen from the kitchen treat cupboard; if he was caught with it, he would be locked in the box as punishment.
By Frank English6 days ago in Fiction
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