Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
“When I’m done with the lantern,” she promised, for she wasn’t forgoing the press of her sister’s wake along the enamel. She bowed her head gently for a moment, applying another coat to the ivory dragon, permitting the brush to glide over remnants and lines – stark and vivid, beautiful and defined.
Not sensing his anger, and likely too tired to adhere to it anyway, she tilted her head, listening all the while as he described the nuances of his travels. “Oh. I’m sorry you won’t have a chance to meet with our priest.” Strange how she hadn’t seen Gideon in some time – and that perturbed her too. Had something else gone awry? “Where will you have this place of innocence?”
Not sensing his anger, and likely too tired to adhere to it anyway, she tilted her head, listening all the while as he described the nuances of his travels. “Oh. I’m sorry you won’t have a chance to meet with our priest.” Strange how she hadn’t seen Gideon in some time – and that perturbed her too. Had something else gone awry? “Where will you have this place of innocence?”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
