He told me to light a fire upon my brow. I lit it with a colorless spark taken from his heart. From beneath my skin, bone grew towards the warmth and erupted into crown.
Before the last notes of his song died upon the wind, they came for the gold shining brighter than the sun. They tore themselves open on the stag point tips, bled wicked across an empire birthed from leftover palette.
The lady elephant evolved to be tuskless. She shed her whalebones and wandered free in regret the cost of life is more salt than carried in the ocean. When I look closely at her, I see myself. The gold no longer shines brighter than the sun for it is moonlight now, visible only in the blackest of night where the absence of color slithers velvet over your skin.