Qalin

The Salmon leaps.

“Under the pink robe I know Qalin is naked. He has been hard in my throat not moments ago. I taste him still on my tongue, and round the inner lining of my cheeks. But as I’ve taken pleasure in the sticky cream that even now oozes from my lips and nose, he has become practical.

“He sits at his desk, his spider writing quickly covering the sheet in black. I make out words but not more. The alphabet remains a puzzle beyond me. I listen instead, reading the words on the wind that are unwritten. The words of his heart. In these weeks, as the summer fades, I find I am a word upon his heart.

“A knucklebone. A carved symbol. A leaping fish. He loops it onto leather, and ties the knot. It is white at my throat, and I clasp it in my hand, reaching out to him for a kiss. I have one from them both, now. Safe among the blues. Safe among the pinks. As long as I use the right one. He holds me to his chest, and sees I weep. Just a little. Safer than any man in this kingdom, is my guess. The powerful can create their own safety, but for young men such as me? Two knucklebones are better than a fortress, better than armour.”