Lava

 

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/57/d2/68/57d2688418eff47e5e831a18d22f86ba.jpg

 

Purple Lime stones glittering in the dark curl around her, she laughs and the ground trembles at the sound of it. Lightly running her fingers over the stone, the stone ripples and acts as water does around the sureness of her fingers. She loves the beauty of it all surrounding her glittering skin and the magma of her hair flowing around the floor behind her longer and thicker than any thought possible. The ceiling made of ocean that blends and swirls like marble and rigid granite, never pressing down upon her fair crown.

Yet it drips, the marble swirls and parts and sways with a rhythm many wish to know. And when is curls and uncurls little drops of sky made of pearls and sunlight clearer than white, drop onto her hair of magma. They dot and decorate, falling into a pattern of her making. Her crown. A queen.

Print Friendly, PDF & Email