It's time you had the talk

[Pentecost]

Do you want to know why I use a knife?
Guns are too quick. You can't savor all the...
little emotions. In... You see, in their
last moments, people show you who they
really are. So, in a way, I know your friends
better than you ever did.

The forest falls black over the blanket of night, stars shimmer and the moon hangs large and high over the evergreen tips. There he walks in elegant stride, fitter and fuller than only a year prior. He feels strong. The river’s flow is hardly a whisper as the forest falls silent. He stands towards the rocky shore, feeling the moon-rays ignite his silvery sheen.

I strategically place myself before coming to a halt, feeling the cool air rise from the stream. Winter has blanketed the entire forest in a white frosting, and amidst the silence I realize how peaceful this world can be. How uncomplicated things could be.   But the naivety is gone.   While the air is chilled, I cannot help but feel a warmth flush across my chest and neck. Is it nerves? There hadn’t been a doubt in my mind that if I put myself out there, she would find me. The electrifying touch, the hypnotizing curve of her flank, she had haunted me since I left her.   And all I want is to see her—the real her—and feel again.   I exhale, a soft puff of steam surrounding my muzzle as I listen to the soft chime of branches singing with the wind. I ignore the pulsing threat daunting deep in the pit of my stomach, the reminder of my task and what I must do. I fear what she will think of me.   I used to believe my biggest fear was failing father.   I now know it’s losing Leonora.

PENTECOST

WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW WHO WERE COWARDS?

@[leonora]

[leonora]

She had thought she’d known what it meant to ache. But to ache for touch without ever having known it paled in comparison to aching for touch knowing exactly how sweet it could be. It had riled panic in her chest when he’d touched her, but only because she did not know how to stomach the thought that she had caused him pain. He’d told her that he didn’t feel and she had wanted to help him, but not like that. Never like that.

She had pined for him.
She had yearned before, certainly. Yearned for the love of her mother mostly.
But this, too, was different.

She has lived in the interim, as she is certain he has. She has wandered, considered finding a home for herself, watched as love manifested itself in the form of knock-kneed foals. He’d told her that he’d find her and she had no choice but to believe him, because to think that she’d never see him again surely would have driven her mad.

She wanders to the river now, melting snow as she goes, dips her electric mouth into the water for a long drink. And when she raises her fine head, she sees him. There on the opposite bank. And she flings herself into the water, its frigid temperature powerless to penetrate the heat of her as she scrambles up onto solid ground, chest heaving.

“You came back,” she whispers in breathless wonder, smiling soft.

and in the dark, i can hear your heartbeat

leonora