// to the green lessons //
She leaned into him, linen and limbs; afraid to touch more than the surface, of yielding other things they seemed to be circling around. Maybe she detested that too, that now there was going to be some great yawning void they couldn’t mention or lingered by and couldn’t even call it by name. Her heart rose in rapid formations in her chest, like jackrabbits and blink hares rapidly blistering through a field, and she stifled down the aches and pains for something substantial, tangible, here and now. Fingers circled around mugs and chats in the morning before the sun rose once more. Like everything would be fine, instead of leaning out over a precicpice and knowing what was at the bottom.
“Better now. I think just a few days more and it can go home too.” Even mentions of home scraped at her edges and didn’t placate all those lovely threads of comfort and warmth. The Family took and it took and it took.
The hues lined the sky with dapples and pockets of perfection and she nearly couldn’t bear that either. She bit at her lip, trying to fill the silence, say something more that wouldn’t drag parts away. “There have been some new sheep species from the Climb as well,” and a soft smile expanded as she unfurled more about them, until he mentioned the sunlight and she could only yield to that. “Me too. LongNights always have a way of reminding us of the things we miss and take for granted.”
“Better now. I think just a few days more and it can go home too.” Even mentions of home scraped at her edges and didn’t placate all those lovely threads of comfort and warmth. The Family took and it took and it took.
The hues lined the sky with dapples and pockets of perfection and she nearly couldn’t bear that either. She bit at her lip, trying to fill the silence, say something more that wouldn’t drag parts away. “There have been some new sheep species from the Climb as well,” and a soft smile expanded as she unfurled more about them, until he mentioned the sunlight and she could only yield to that. “Me too. LongNights always have a way of reminding us of the things we miss and take for granted.”
Lena
// of soft, simple quiet beneath the sun //
