[open] i think i'm where the bloodline ends

[liesma]

i still chase you into heartache
Every time you take a step

Of dreams she knows so little.
She closes her eyes to sleep and sees only stars, she has been so wholly consumed by them.

How many hours had she spent as a child, worshipping them? Bending them to her will? How many hours had she spent standing so impossibly still in the center of the meadow while they rained down around her?

And now she paints the sky with constellations. Glance overhead and you might find a deer leaping across the sky, a wolf prowling, grasses swaying where they hadn’t been before. And when she gets lonely, as she often does, she pulls them down out of the sky and confesses all her secrets to them. 

She sleeps, certainly, but not to dream. And when she sees him, she sees the stars first. These stars are beautiful but they are not her stars. She does not think to call them to her, for she is not a coy creature, and instead wanders closer. These stars have the same nature as her brother’s stars, she thinks, somehow tame. They stay put, as if the air around him is the sky itself. As if he is some great celestial body. Her brother is of the sky, certainly, but this stranger does not seem to be.

“Hello,” she says. “My brother has stars like these,” she tells him for no other reason than perhaps to explain why she’s felt the need to disrupt his peace at all. “They’re beautiful.”

liesma —