to be lit up from within
vein by vein
The girl stared beyond, chin lifted into the sea breeze, into the ocean air, into the wild, wicked wind, and breathed. For a time she closed her eyes too, uncaring if the islands switched their places, if they bombarded and slid into new roles; sitting along the tawny shoal, the shifting dunes, at peace. Her hands were otherwise occupied and full, but for the moment she enjoyed the rough candor of the rolling waves and the potential tempest harbored within; knew the power, the precision, unmatched in its splendor, along the basking current, the ebb and flow. Fangorn hovered beside her knee, rolling in the sand, and when she finally opened her gilded gaze once more, the sun slid upon her face, and it felt like pieces, like portions, of home.While she listened to the surf and swell, she lowered her bounty to the ground, shifting through the fronds, the sticks, the lengthened portions of boughs she’d sprung apart in woodlands. There were other things amiss too: twine, string, a series of berries she thought to smash in her palm and use as brightened hues, lantern fortifications.
But who to honor this year? She made lanterns for her mother, for her sister, in the last turn of the earth, and they hung still on the VlamVoed’s wall, tiny memorials with their flickering light, with their beams of other worlds and lost, regarded souls. The girl presumed many would be honoring those lost during LongNight, or the recent debacle and swift, sudden demise of Adam and Peter, if rumors were to be believed. But there were also the little companions to think about, innocent and without anything but the command of their bondeds.
So, perhaps, to Coffee and to Apricum. Shouldn’t they be remembered, just as much?
The youth bowed her head and began to work, fighting naught, hands swift and keen.
to be the sun
MELITA
