Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
There was only so long she could maintain her innocence, her ignorance, floating and winding her way in between Celestine gates and enclosures, beneath petals and pockets of ornate stars. The rounding of Gideon’s brow, the way he stared at her, made something go very quiet down the edges of her spine, and the revolving answer enough to mute any other inclinations. Maybe she just didn’t want to know. Maybe it was better that way.
Lena wasn’t made out of weapons or schemes or demolition wiles. She was affection and beneficence, kindness and the strength in compassion.
And still, her mind warped. Like what?
Her eyes didn’t go to her sister’s this time. They stayed on the floor instead, and then to Gideon at the compelling for support. Her basket could remain amongst all the other proportions for the moment, and she could grab it when they wound their way back through. “Okay,” was all she could surmise, very hushed and subdued, the moments catching up with her. Then she maneuvered to snag at his arm, roaming underneath where she could lift and reinforce.
Lena wasn’t made out of weapons or schemes or demolition wiles. She was affection and beneficence, kindness and the strength in compassion.
And still, her mind warped. Like what?
Her eyes didn’t go to her sister’s this time. They stayed on the floor instead, and then to Gideon at the compelling for support. Her basket could remain amongst all the other proportions for the moment, and she could grab it when they wound their way back through. “Okay,” was all she could surmise, very hushed and subdued, the moments catching up with her. Then she maneuvered to snag at his arm, roaming underneath where she could lift and reinforce.
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
