The emptiness between them, he says, he says; nothing. Here she comes, battle tank down the stairs, hellfire around her well rounded thighs, the heaviness betrays muscle, no empty mass. Her hair flies about her as she rounds the corner fast, she is so horribly clumsy yet she keeps the pace up. Running people down in the street, the thunder in her head never softening. He says, he says: nothing. He never said anything back then and he never says anything now. It's the distance that keeps the conversation safe, the muted hue of the screen revealing no direct contact. Everything keeps a steady, delayed pace. She breaks the rules now and then, his rules, but she never pays the price in full. Though, unbeknownst to him, she never will. He says, he says; we'll shorten the distance, we'll find a way, I want us to be together. But he doesn't want her hellfire, he doesn't want her angry, randomized grief. He loves the elfen queen in her, but shields his eyes to the battalion of monsters, though he knows. It's the distance that keeps the conversation safe, he can vanish whenever he likes. He can go right now. He can just leave.
The emptiness between them can't last. She is life and she wants to give life. Right now, she is standing still and it is killing her with every unknown move she cannot make. She is a chess piece on a board, she is all the pieces at once, the board; she is the entire universe. He says, he says; you are amazing. He always says that. But she is terror, she is horror and she is the blood that runs back up the walls. She is in the dark at night and she is the dark at night; here is the mother, only she can carry the burden fully, only she knows the true extent of love. She is the light and she is the dark and she is all the grey in between. The sparkle and glimmer, the never ending wonder. She is hope and she is pain and she says; this is what you wanted.
He says, he says; nothing. Yet she comes ever closer. He will be found, sooner or later. He will be absorbed and his value will be estimated in truth. She will break him apart and fondle his eyelids and no objection will save him from this torture. Where you are torn there is pleasure. Where you die you shall be reborn. He can't escape the impact nor the chaos, if he wants her he'll go through hell and come out a changed man. If, at any point, he withdraws again; says nothing, says nothing. She won't burn him then. No fire will touch his skin, nor his soul. His heart will be returned to him and he will have to leave. This battle tank doesn't do cowards.