// to the green lessons //
Clutched tightly against him, she still trembled. They were all shaking parts of a greater, helpless whole: sorrow, for him, for them, for Koa, for anyone still caught in these traps and snares, terror, love, compassion, and heartache, the veins of uncertainty so crystal clear she could feel them beating in time with her pulse. “I’m sorry,” she uttered against his shirt, already mottled with her tears, feeling despondent and pathetic, nothing to do, nothing to gain, nothing else but loss coating the moment. She didn’t even know what she was apologizing for anymore; all of it seemed to conflate upon ineptitude and journeys she couldn’t take, on nightmares plaguing him and that overbearing, overwhelming sense of grief for things already returned.
Then her face was in his hands, and she gulped down another layer of bile gnarling its way down her throat. “I know, I just-,” she didn’t have the words nor the meaning, and perhaps couldn’t comprehend it herself. The unknown was a vast, hurtling force, and while once she would’ve been curious about its ramparts, nowadays it just felt sickening and ill; tarnished by parasitic Families no one had asked for. “I’ll be here,” she honored and promised, still clutching at his clothes for something tangible, because that’s all she really had left.
Then her face was in his hands, and she gulped down another layer of bile gnarling its way down her throat. “I know, I just-,” she didn’t have the words nor the meaning, and perhaps couldn’t comprehend it herself. The unknown was a vast, hurtling force, and while once she would’ve been curious about its ramparts, nowadays it just felt sickening and ill; tarnished by parasitic Families no one had asked for. “I’ll be here,” she honored and promised, still clutching at his clothes for something tangible, because that’s all she really had left.
Lena
// of soft, simple quiet beneath the sun //
