10-09-2018, 09:16 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-09-2018, 09:17 AM by North.
Edit Reason: tags
)
Nobody's sin, nobody's white-
knuckled god, nobody's hummingbird
- - - -
They could be sisters,
kissed by the moon, released to time and circumstance. Watch them weave down the river farther and farther apart until, suddenly, they arrive at each other.
They could be sisters,
kissed by the moon, two silver doves come to rest on a branch once stripped bare by winter, now full with spring.
One comes to a stop (when did she start walking?) beside the other. Lately she is living on the edge of restless and angry, like her body is too small for what lives inside. She feels so much like fire these days, illuminating all the mistakes carved on the inside of her too-tight skin.
"Hello stranger," she says slowly, feeling nothing strange at all. Her voice is grey smoke in an otherwise unremarkable morning. They look at the landscape together and each woman paints it a little differently with her own memories. Both use the color blue in excess.
Hello, little sister.
"Do you have stories to tell?" If her breath catches with excitement it is only because she would like to lose herself in someone else for a change. Just for a moment.
- - - - -
By morning, I had vanished at least a dozen times
N O R T H
Into something better
knuckled god, nobody's hummingbird
- - - -
They could be sisters,
kissed by the moon, released to time and circumstance. Watch them weave down the river farther and farther apart until, suddenly, they arrive at each other.
They could be sisters,
kissed by the moon, two silver doves come to rest on a branch once stripped bare by winter, now full with spring.
One comes to a stop (when did she start walking?) beside the other. Lately she is living on the edge of restless and angry, like her body is too small for what lives inside. She feels so much like fire these days, illuminating all the mistakes carved on the inside of her too-tight skin.
"Hello stranger," she says slowly, feeling nothing strange at all. Her voice is grey smoke in an otherwise unremarkable morning. They look at the landscape together and each woman paints it a little differently with her own memories. Both use the color blue in excess.
Hello, little sister.
"Do you have stories to tell?" If her breath catches with excitement it is only because she would like to lose herself in someone else for a change. Just for a moment.
- - - - -
By morning, I had vanished at least a dozen times
N O R T H
Into something better
@Eilidh <3