Short stories and poems

My Selena

Your dark eyes were brighter than Sirius
And your kisses colder than Neptune
The universe was witness of your virtue
To be as pale and mysterious as the moon

My Italian lover

He looked at me as I wore black lace
He came and put his hands on my waist
We danced, we kissed, and we took it to the bed
Letting passion burst to make love over velvet

•═══ᘚ┅═══•༓•═══┅ᘛ═══•
His eyes darted into hers, wondering why she never aged, how had her smile become permanent, what kept her picture from being consumed by the flames of hell.
•═══ᘚ┅═══•༓•═══┅ᘛ═══•
Dance, my lovely swan, if you want those arms to become your wings!
And so she did, believing in a fantasy. She danced unstoppably, until her feet started to bleed, and her eyes turned milky white, and her body became so stiff and cold that all her limbs fell off. But she did turn into a swan, for death was the only way to break her curse.
•═══ᘚ┅═══•༓•═══┅ᘛ═══•
Mom, I was wondering if I could help you dig.
The woman turned to look at the little girl with crimson hair, and she shook her head. The child sighed, and then sat in the dirt.
Whose grave are you digging now, mother?
The woman sighed, and looked at her daughter. Her face turned stone cold, and she kissed her daughter in the head.
We are no longer on the graveyard, Rose. We are on a garden.

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