In gentle reverence, she posits herself in the manner taught to her. She prays and preys. There was no hint of camouflage though she was herself, a master of it. Unnoticed, she baited for the timely moment to appear. That moment had to come uninvited, for the entirety of her life hung sparsely on it.
She was already floundering in the blazing rage of the firefly. Beyond her normal inclinations, she endured her blistered waiting and remnants of faraway troubles were now to her, every emotional investment.
Oh mantis, was there a prophecy that you were about to gesticulate? Or were you simply longing for the firefly’s violent, incandescent masterpiece? She recollects the human tendency of sacrifice and unadulterated passions through the firefly’s aglow. Giving up to give. It was yesterday she was given to, when the firefly gave up.
Arduous, were the incongruous discords birthed inside her. She could only renounce the prisoner she was fashioned and permitted to be. The prisoner of sexual and mental fevers that propels her will to survive, that also compels her second-class citizenship.
In a fractured second, she fell from the heights of illusions. Hard rock hit, she was still brawling and worming into the throes of yesterday.