Nephilim

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You ate all my memories when I entered the room, replaced them with your own. I can see you as you look upon my frail and tired body knowing my imminent future. I see what you did to my mother and her mother and her mother, back through the ages. I see the flame of your ancient, Promethean whim.


You were so beautiful. Do you know it? You were an angel, once. You are a fallen son of fire, now. It is strange to be the final outcome of your desire for a daughter of clay.


You are so beautiful, still. Do you know it? No, you see only the curse. I see past and present all folded onto itself. With you I devour your wife, my ancient grandmother. We devour generations of women, daughters and mothers all. We devour my own body moving upward from my toes.


We are at my hips. You return some of my memories and we share them. Does it make you happy to know I never bore children? Are you relieved your punishment for loving will soon be finished?


It is not wholly your fault. Your creator made her enchanting beyond resisting. How were you to know your parent would fell so abandoned by your newfound passion? When did the primordial deity make known its discontent?


Do not tell me. I know. I see.


We are eating my heart. If I could still see with my eyes, speak with my lips, I might apologize for your pain. We stop eating at my neck and concentrate on the left arm starting with my hand. We are eating my right arm, now.


We move swiftly. Everything I see is so blurred and blinding I cannot tell if eating faster makes it all hurt less. Are you aware of my presence within you?


We are finished eating, now. There is a sense of something all about me. It is so warm within you. It is so crowded with femininity and yet I am comfortable. I see, now. We are all united, now. We are all reunited within you.


We are so beautiful, always. Do you know it? Yes? Good.

Created: Jul 25, 2012

Tags: story, prose poem

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