bloodassoftassilk

With no alarm she dances through the bony air, eyes like a hungry child slobbering at the first scent of knowledge. Glistening off of those eyes– the very sight of it– the taste that all greedy minds crave. She flutters towards it, light peaks through her delicate wings like how it flickers under the water's surface, an angel ascending into heaven easily and swiftly crushed by the capital hand that shadowed behind such heavenly light– with all intention of crushing the wings of innocence – and with a clear conscience, as a moth is to a hand as what a person is to the universe. Isn't it painless for a hand to swat fo