Amalia
a certain darkness is needed to see the stars
✩
She straightens further, up towards the sky, as the oil pastel planet spins around her and outside her and through her, too, stars piercing mortal skin and leaving burns and tears. She is paper thin and semitransparent, wrapped around him until she rips and forgets what she was. And he is walls and walls and walls, layer upon layer she can never tear down, only crash on like a wave.
She looks at the slippery, changing sky and the light burn in her eyes. "I'm going to find the stars," she explains, as though this were the most painfully obvious thing in the whole world. "Stars guide the lost, and I am lost. Maybe they can help me find the thing I'm looking for." What was it? She can't remember now. Something frightening and futile, but something that she needs.
She looks at the slippery, changing sky and the light burn in her eyes. "I'm going to find the stars," she explains, as though this were the most painfully obvious thing in the whole world. "Stars guide the lost, and I am lost. Maybe they can help me find the thing I'm looking for." What was it? She can't remember now. Something frightening and futile, but something that she needs.
