Synesthesia Of Truth #Wattys2...

بواسطة AFREAKBrainstorm

28 2 4

syn·es·the·sia ˌsinəsˈTHēZHə/ noun PHYSIOLOGY PSYCHOLOGY Definition: The production of a sense impression rel... المزيد

Synesthesia of Truth

28 2 4
بواسطة AFREAKBrainstorm


She sounds like rose gold; tough in all its glory but a little soft around the edges. She giggles and smiles, cheeky and sweet as if thy were the child of Aphrodite herself. Only she is not Aphrodite, simply a deity worth more than currency and petty one night stands.

"Eurydice." There are many interpretations of this name, can have more than one meaning or value to anyone. But to me, Eurydice tastes like karydopsomo.

"You call my name but seem a thousand miles away. What is on your mind, Orpheus?"

My skin crawls and flares, not quite sure how to explain. If her gentle caress nurses my doubts, my worries and fears, and I do the same.... Why does my mind trouble with expressing how I feel? There should be no turmoil nor debate, yet when she holds my hand an endless vast of sea appears; I feel lost.

Marriage. I want to marry Eurydice. I want to hold and cherish her, to take her to lands far from here. I want all of these things, but can't explain why. We've only a few summer nights that ground our relationship, not nearly enough time to be this obsessed about someone. Would she think of me as arrogant to assume a long term relationship? Would she fret and escape from my grasp without notice, leaving me in a trail of dust none of part? The risks seem too hard too hard to bare but it could be worth asking....

"I see a possible future that holds our lives together." I pause our tread through the garden, getting a burnt taste at the back of my throat; I wave my hand and summon a cloud to block the sun.

"You speak in riddles, Orpheus. Our future is now. Is it not? Aren't our bodies side by side, flesh and bone, blood coursing through our veins at this very moment?" she says. Her thickly wrung curls sweep across her shoulder as she turns to face me, eye to eye.

I clear my throat, sidestep her spell. "I am not speaking in riddles, but you however, mock me."

"Mock.... Orpheus, whatever it is you shall say, speak it now." Her tone is no less patient than ever. Aren't you always patient with me, Eurydice?

With great hesitation, I call out my pleas, doubts, and worries to Eurydice; she is my focal point and I pray to the Gods that she will comprehend. Clearing my throat,  I inquire, "What is life if Death is a man? Does such an obvious fact allow me to make presumptions that Life itself, identifies as female?"

A grip so firm. Water so painful.

My heart clenches and throbs, my tongue tastes like pomegranate. Beside me, Eurydice waits patiently. "Could...could it be possible for us to have a bond? Are we...compatible?" My eyes widen in fear.

Did I just doubt my love for Eurydice?

"You are not Death, Orpheus, nor will you ever be." A strong exhale, then, "Sing." she demands. I startle out of my self-depreciation.

"Pardon?"

"Sing." Soft hands clutch at my forearms, she lowers us toward the ground. My tunic crinkles at the persistent friction of soil; I scoul in the face of Gaea. "Anything you would like." Eurydice soothes.

A grip so firm. Water so painful.

Like a viper, I flick my tongue across my lips, attempting to catch the taste of skin contacting skin; her feeling and hers only. My beloved. My Eurydice. Another taste, and I proceed to project my voice.

Before it all begins there is light

This light triggers a reaction

This reaction, our reaction, my reaction...

Is the Synesthesia of Truth   

Truth starts in the head, lets gravity become the best

Of it

Dragging it down, down, down-

One.

The heart ceases to beat,

Its fatal attempt at pumping blood

Through its host

Two.

A coat of armor melts,

Taking flesh and bone with it

The reverse of a Phoenix's rebirth

Three.

The host becomes the bearer of its consequences.

His mind screams, "Listen to my Synesthesia of Truth!"

Color becomes sound, sound becomes taste, taste becomes color

Four.

The Synesthesia of Truth has cleansed the Beast.


Beneath my palms, small bundles of violette daisies poke and prod along the lines of many years.

Snap. "For you, my beloved." I smile. However, I refrain from attempting eye contact; such dark lyrics could be disturbing for any mortal. A literal spark of electricity transpires between fingertips as I pass over the dainty plant.

"Violettes...." Her voice is fond, almost disbelieving; Eurydice opens her mouth to speak but closes the portal with a shake of her head, almost as if she were dispelling a thought. "Talk of Death is a grave subject, even for you Orpheus. You should know that all relations to those we have no control over should not be compared to everyday people." Death affects us all, even Gods. "There are opposites all around us; Life and Death, creation and destruction, love and hatred. They all have their differences, but will usually share something similar if you observe closely. For example," Eurydice snaps the stem of the flower between pinched fingers, "one could say that I have killed this flower by plucking its petals. It is no longer beautiful, no longer a gift to those who decide to share it. But," A small hole is made by the side of my tunic; I watch, enticed, as she lowers the remaining core and stem into the hole and sheaths it with soil, "The flower will always grow back with the seeds- or rather,its legacies- if they are still intact."

"They work together to create something new,"

"Something beautiful."

"Both Life and Death,"

"Are one and the same." Now even closer than before, flesh to flesh, Eurydice and I lean close, canceling out any and all space that could get in the way of uniting our bodies as one. A myriad of colors bloom behind my eyes as I plant a chaste kiss upon her lips; purple, blue, black, and even more that are so complex, even I could not name them. As we pull apart, I am in awe to find a single golden ray of sunlight, shining upon Eurydice; her hair, once a satchel brown, is now a redwood color. Her eyes a striking blue, like teardrops of the ocean had dyed them several times. And her skin so glossy that it seemed as though Eurydice could appear to be a mirror at first glance.

With shaky fingers, I guide my hand to a pocket in my tunic and retrieve a small twine box; my eyes remain on Eurydice the whole time. Lightheaded. Dizzy.

Drachma, oh Drachma

Could you have stolen my heart once again?

My good friend.

(My good friend)

Lost inside my head,

you have pulled my conscience away

Away from me, from the world.

My love comes back to you,

To us

Many treasures we will seek

We will open our hearts for the taking

(Take us to the land of dreams)

Drachma, oh Drachma

Could you have stolen my heart once again?

My good friend.

(My good friend)

Lost inside my head,

you have pulled my conscience away

Away from me, from the world.

"Orpheus." she calls. I align a palm along her cheek and stare into beautiful diamond eyes. Tints of pink powder her bashful visage. " I will not say that Death is not capable of anything as romantic as the words you have bestowed on me today and every other day before this one, but I will tell you that I am highly appreciative and honored to be the very source of those words." Eurydice pauses a moment, she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "However, when you degrade yourself like that, it saddens me. You are more than a man Orpheus; you are more than Death, than life and love. I am not able to express myself very clearly but what I am trying to say is... I will not leave you. Not now, not ever, so long as my faith in the Gods remains strong. Life will never leave you."

"I understand. And I apologize for how I have acted but, I was nervous of,"

"What?"

Hera, give me strength."Proposing."

"To me?" Her words sound disbelieving and utterly shocked. Her reaction stings like a slap to the face. Shamefaced, I go to tuck the box of twine back into my pocket, but a strong grip immobilizes my forearm from moving any further.

"It is childish, I know. But you have every right to refuse, Eurydice." I support.

"Oh nonsense!" she yelps. Before I can comment, Eurydice steals the box and removes the silver ring; she places the band on her finger. Her eyes alight with tears; the droplets cascade down her cheeks freely as she bawls into my tunic. As time goes on my body relaxes, growing accustomed to the newly placed weight which will surely rest upon my shoulder some time in the near future.She won't leave, just like  she said. "Of course not, you dolt!" she hisses. A few more sniffles and sobs, Eurydice suddenly hops up and out of my arms, pulling me along with her. My head spins for a fraction of a second before I feel righted again. As I recover, my eyes finally adjust only to find Eurydice missing from my grasp. My heart thunders in my chest. Did she leave? Did I make her mad? Did I-

"Come, Orpheus! We must celebrate!" She shouts. "For I am your Drachma, your Life, your Heat. Do not not keep me waiting."

I chuckle at my foolishness. I steadily fill the gap between us and retrieve her hand once more."Not a chance, Eurydice." I smile.  Never."

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