The Mistress

A wistful, yet still blinded, mistress paws longingly at the uninterested lover. Grasping, pushing forward with force. It is a fleeting romance as the fool is repeatedly pulled away, collecting relics as it slips back. Cracking, crushing, grinding, the worn down lover illuminates with a golden glow, seducing passersby. The romantic body glides, foams, begging for attention, only to be dragged away again, helpless. A mere soul, coerced by the glimmering glow of the coarse surface, resides upon it. The blue reaches, wanting to consume, set to devour, like a vulture on carrion. Yet, it cannot quite reach, wrenched back once more. The mistress looks on, knowing the stranger is feeling the lovers' warmth as it falls through the cracks in between their fingers. They will never succumb to its power. So it was that the deep blue was mocked once more.