Do You Want Me To Sing To

His Gold Eyes Grew Very Soft. “you Said You Loved Me.” “you Knew That Already,” I Reminded Him, Ducking My Head. “it Was Nice To Hear, Just The Same.” I Hid My Face Against His Shoulder. “i Love You,” I Whispered. “you Are My Life Now,” He Answered Simply. There Was Nothing More To Say For The Moment. He Rocked Us Back And Forth As The Room Grew Lighter.

After All The Planets And All The Hosts You've Left Behind, You've Finally Found The Place And The Body You'd Die For. I Think You've Found Your Home, Wanderer.

Eight Full Lives,” I Whispered Against His Jaw, My Voice Breaking. “eight Full Lives And I Never Found Anyone I Would Stay On A Planet For, Anyone I Would Follow When They Left. I Never Found A Partner. Why Now? Why You? You're Not Of My Species. How Can You Be My Partner?” “it's A Strange Universe,” He Murmured. “it's Not Fair,” I Complained, Echoing Sunny's Words. It Wasn't Fair. How Could I Find This, Find Love–now, In This Eleventh Hour–and Have To Leave It? Was It Fair That My Soul And Body Couldn't Reconcile? Was It Fair That I Had To Love Melanie, Too?

Non-reality Was Black, And It Didn't Hurt So Much.

Why Am I Covered In Feathers