Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
One hand intertwined with Sera’s, sisterly bonds, affection, and beneficence, while the other grabbed hold of some rags, and wondered about scrubbing at the contents of the floor. If the stones absorbed it all. If there were other prices to pay now.
But she bit her lip and listened, eyes flickering to the loose rock and boards, with etchings of struggles and wanton disregard; Ludo asking, Gideon responding, the whole of the truth and story not resounding. And she didn’t query. Didn’t want to know how the fluid had come to be in his possession – clearly not freely given or granted. Something in her stomach turned, and she breathed, sending the vapor and vestiges into the crooks and crannies of the world, of this church, of this temple, with its high-rising guidance and supports.
Sera’s question wasn’t really answered though – and it pressed into her throat, across her tongue, behind her teeth, not stopping. “Why…why would you need it again?” What was the point?
And then she paused, afraid it’d been pressing too much. “Do you want us to help you get up? Or clean?” So much more to be done – a distraction, a deterrent, from the way some things were beginning to shape.
But she bit her lip and listened, eyes flickering to the loose rock and boards, with etchings of struggles and wanton disregard; Ludo asking, Gideon responding, the whole of the truth and story not resounding. And she didn’t query. Didn’t want to know how the fluid had come to be in his possession – clearly not freely given or granted. Something in her stomach turned, and she breathed, sending the vapor and vestiges into the crooks and crannies of the world, of this church, of this temple, with its high-rising guidance and supports.
Sera’s question wasn’t really answered though – and it pressed into her throat, across her tongue, behind her teeth, not stopping. “Why…why would you need it again?” What was the point?
And then she paused, afraid it’d been pressing too much. “Do you want us to help you get up? Or clean?” So much more to be done – a distraction, a deterrent, from the way some things were beginning to shape.
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
