Bitter of Tongue

His kind has always liked cruelty full as much as justice.

“Julian,” he said. “Jules. My artist, my dreamer. Hold him up to the light and he would shine a dozen different colors. All he cares about is his art and

Beauty can be like that. Beauty cannot be trusted. Beauty can slip through your fingers like water and burn on your tongue like poison. Beauty can be the shining wall that keeps you from all you love.

I look up at the stars and I give each star a brother’s name or a sister’s face

One day I will go home.”

His art and his Emma, Mark had said,

but forever lasts such a short time in the mortal world

Beauty can be like that. Beauty cannot be trusted. Beauty can slip through your fingers like water and burn on your tongue like poison. Beauty can be the shining wall that keeps you from all you love.

Mark spoke like a poem and walked like a dance.