The Skies Know Nothing

 
The skies knew nothing of her, her stars erased from the constellations in his broken microscope.
He'd watched as he always did from his corner sipping his brandy from his glass, pausing it on his lips, savoring the way she broke into the the sky under the always bladed thumb of dissatisfaction.
The skies knew not the letters in her name, nor the taste of the blood that stained it's surface, but he resented the taste of her lingering on unworthy tongues; sitting with his brandy trying to drown her away as the skies had so easily done!
She tongued, mouthed his name from beyond....
Beyond...
Beyond...
Where his eyes could see, but her skin etched itself to lay against the cool, damp, flesh of a broken man reliving the feel of her name cursing the heavens and screaming to be with only him.
He watched as he always did, brandy glass of her savoring on his lips, bared flesh flashes to his masculinity, a dream to good to be true...but once it was...before the skies engulfed her ability to love.
Before she became his only memory, before his dreams were her sole existence....
The skies know nothing of her...but he could draw back the destruction in her constellations and pull her to his leisure...her life, her pleasure telling the skies his name and him greedily savoring the taste of her name leaving his tongue and the brandy falling to break on the floor while his thirst finds sanctuary in the bright blues of awakened eyes.
He thinks...screw the brandy, fuck the skies!