FREELANCE POETRY.

𝗶. - 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴.

king

/kiNG/

noun

i. your hands are trembling, so gentle and so afraid. they are cold, colder than the snow that sits outside your frost-covered window. they are soft and small, perfect for holding a weighted sword. they are pale, so very pale, and the light makes them look translucent, as if you are a ghost. sometimes you think you are one, with how the gods have shunned you so. you are the most important chess piece, but you are not so easily knocked down.

ii. your hair is the night, so dark and comforting. it spills — like the bitter tea you adore but cannot hold right — just a little bit over your shoulders. it would look perfect with a crown made of bones and diamonds. your lashes, so long and sleek, they taper at the ends. your eyes are a dark brown, with flecks of gold and hazel in them, shining bright and comforting. they analyze the area and study me. they're monolid, and contrast to your freckled pale skin.

iii. and your personality, it's a delicacy, one that should be savoured like the noodles that you scoop to your lips with your nearly broken chopsticks. you are a king, and you should not settle to be anything less. most kings are unpopular, lustful, and a brute. you are otherwise. you speak with such of a softness, it drips with honey and sweetness. you are kind and friendly, always shaking someone's hand, a grin on your features. you're calm, and lack a hot temper.