Work Text:
ten years have passed and you are coming out of your cave and doing just fine,
red red red like the brilliant rays of the sun,
wedding-red,
good luck-red,
bold and beautiful, your robes are.
your eyes look like the most clear, most vulnerable, most tear-filled daggers I've seen. you don't know what to do with your hands as you walk through their ranks, as you stand; your attention lit up by a childlike interest, your eyes glaring a warning to those unruly before you; some are among them who betrayed you. you kill; it is shocking, it is beautiful.
i love you, i love you, i love you, the song sings; but it is never enough; you know, it is never enough.
-
the bamboo forest.
your sharp eyes, your killer gaze;
your tears, your trembling, your rage.
if you stare down your opponents with that hard hatred, with that cold unyielding venom, who could not fall in love with you? who could?
as you led the horse past those grasses on the cliff, you looked particularly soft, and particularly vulnerable. maybe it was something about your hair, something about the way it fell, pinned by your hairstick,
something about the light, perhaps.
don't go, don't go;
another old story, another old and familiar tale.
don't go. please stay. it is never enough, but:
i love you, i love you, i love you.
-
(our lotus flower is dead. long live our lotus flower.)