The Moon

My brother walked into our make-shift home, a dark cave with echoing walls. Mould seemed to creep up the walls as if it were alive. Alone, I will admit I felt scared. With him, I was incapable of feeling fear.

The night was natural on his skin. The moon whitening his skin. His red lips and the bloodstains on his armour even more apparent. Beauty knew nothing if it did not know my brother.

He was in front of me in second. His face dripping with the blood of one of his victims. Stroking the skin of his jaw, I leaned forward to kiss him. His lips tasted like iron but that only made me kiss him further, to devour his scent. So I couldn't taste death, so I could only taste him.

Water for Lost Souls

The water glistened in front of us as we sat. Our nakedness open to the world. I traced the scars on your skin. For every hundred kunai dodged, one left a scratch on your perfection. I want to take those for your brother. Take the cuts and the bruises. The scars and the insults. The pain. I wish I could take it all from you, so you never know anything but love. You're changing every day into a creature of violence.

I remember as children, we'd go to this lake. Our parents always warned us away. Telling us tales of sharks and a current so strong it would pull the skin from our bones. Even then, you were fearless. Like now, I followed you even when all I felt was fear. I knew you'd protect me. You looked at that water and you dived in as I sat at the side. Scared to even venture in under your protection. One day as I sat on the edge, you went under and didn't come back up. Air bubbles broke the surface and without a second thought I dived in. Only for you to pop your head back up, laughing at me. Delighted that you tricked me into the lake. I climbed back out, shivering on the bank, tears dripping down my face. When you tried to reassure me, I hit you. You embraced me and what followed was the first time we kissed. Your lips that day were juvenile, not like now as they crush themselves on mine. I can taste your hunger, brother.

We sit close, your hand strokes my upper thigh. Our sins are our own and I will commit them willingly until the day I die. In paradise, in the spirit world, I know I will dream of you.