Cassandra, in the Bruise of Light

Glowing eyes press into skin, sunlight pouring hot as fire, blistering, leaving prophecy seared into flesh like a blackened wound. He falls through the open cage of her eyes. She dances in the radiance until her bones crack, until light pries her mouth open and fills it with silence. Every kiss bruises, every bruise speaks, every prophecy splits her tongue and falls mute. Her tongue swells with visions, blood clotting at her teeth. Cuts are dangerous, but the bruise is worse. It spreads inward, purple shadowing beneath the skin, festering with truth. He burns her and no one believes. She hears the great walls collapsing around her, smoke folding sky into misty horizon.

Blood will not forget his kiss, a wound, her sun-burnt tongue.