The Pyre

It started with a flame. The flame turned unto torch, the torch unto pyre, until there was nothing left but the cold ashes of logic and reason scattered upon the winds of once was and now will never come to be again. Thus in our infancy we were but two pups licking at each others wounds. I was a mutt carrying the scars of battle left by the weight of the ultimate taboo. She was a bitch burden by her attempt at a premature departure from this world. Together we reveled in the exquisite nature of pain savoring each others departure as one would tenderly care for an open wound. In its coming of age we proved to depend upon each other, no longer only satisfying the carnal limitations of our weak flesh bound to bone.

to be continued...