DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
Leafchange’s looming presence signified another wake of seasonal rounds; either meant to haunt or cherish, and he was never quite sure which to pick. More apt for the former, for the wounds and grief to press in between shoulder blades, ribs, and the bones of his spine, to click and weave their way along the back of his mind in traces of loss. For now, he bowed his head through the doorframe of the Citadel, clamoring closer to a shrine he hadn’t spoken towards in quite some time.
Eventually he’d have to make amends again. Perhaps when everything was clearer. More certain, more sure.
His gloved hands placed a starry offering upon the mantle, before wandering further into the midst, and sitting upon the floor, casting off the gauntlets, opening the width of his bag. Within were several pieces already formed for lanterns – plain, unadorned, because he hadn’t picked the newest to add to the symbolic artifacts. He’d already hastened some for his mother, father, Huyana, Rexanna, Kiada (now since lingering with its own beacon of light), and several others over the years. Who or what had been lost in the past seasons?
Did he make one for those disappeared, gone, from his life, even if they weren’t perished? He had no intention of christening one for Morgan, and remained unaware of the wake of demises in the past weeks. So instead, he placed the already forged items on the cold stone, chin in his hands, studying and staring them over.
Eventually he’d have to make amends again. Perhaps when everything was clearer. More certain, more sure.
His gloved hands placed a starry offering upon the mantle, before wandering further into the midst, and sitting upon the floor, casting off the gauntlets, opening the width of his bag. Within were several pieces already formed for lanterns – plain, unadorned, because he hadn’t picked the newest to add to the symbolic artifacts. He’d already hastened some for his mother, father, Huyana, Rexanna, Kiada (now since lingering with its own beacon of light), and several others over the years. Who or what had been lost in the past seasons?
Did he make one for those disappeared, gone, from his life, even if they weren’t perished? He had no intention of christening one for Morgan, and remained unaware of the wake of demises in the past weeks. So instead, he placed the already forged items on the cold stone, chin in his hands, studying and staring them over.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
