09-24-2018, 01:14 PM
there’s no part of scripture that ever prepared you for his hands - hands that map
a communion in the cradle of your hips. hands that kiss hymns up your sides.
and, oh, you put him on his knees.
@[Officials]
a communion in the cradle of your hips. hands that kiss hymns up your sides.
Spring is the hardest time of year for her and yet this time she can’t bring herself to leave Beqanna and seek refuge. She leans her tired head on the rough bark of a tree and watches the newborn children playing, all clumsy and tumbling over one another. Their laughter breathes an old pain into her chest and yet she can’t look away from them. Pantheon’s laugh used to sound like bells and trickling streams, she remembers. Then his voice grew a certain timber to it and suddenly he was a man. Her baby kissed her cheek goodbye and that was the last she ever saw of him.
Sometimes, she smells the pine and the musk of dirt and it reminds her of him.
Virgo sighs and finally tears herself from her perch to wander for a while. Her vision is blurred with tears until she blinks them away and sniffles weakly. God, she tried so hard to trim this weakness from her but it’s back every morning like it never left. This ancient ache remains stitched to all her most precious pieces no matter the effort she puts into growing.
She doesn’t even notice when she steps up onto the first bit of incline that forms the mountain. Her mind is a thousand miles away while her heart thumps forlorn against her ribs. Virgo is only dimly aware of the change in temperature after a time, then she notices the perilous journey when she begins to stumble on the loose rocks. But any place is better than down there among the mothers and their babies. Any place could be home as long as it’s quiet and cold, matching the eternal winter of her heart.
The sun has set by the time the air grows thin around her and she’s shivering viciously from the cold. The mountain snow crunches under her hooves but still the girl continues on. She’s not immortal, she realizes, but death doesn’t loom over her as it does for others. It was there when she took her first breaths and it’ll come to claim her last someday, but her heart tells her it is not her time.
Finally she lifts her pale head and watches the stars glimmering brightly all above her. She thinks of Wishbone and wonders if she might like the view of them from here. Would the queen point out her own constellation for her?
“I try so hard to be strong, you know,” she says to anyone and no one at all. “But the hurt is always there. It’s just as sharp as the day it began.”
A tear rolls down her cheek and a half-hearted smile forms on her lips. The empty cradles, the frustrated lovers. It’s all just become too much for her.
Sometimes, she smells the pine and the musk of dirt and it reminds her of him.
Virgo sighs and finally tears herself from her perch to wander for a while. Her vision is blurred with tears until she blinks them away and sniffles weakly. God, she tried so hard to trim this weakness from her but it’s back every morning like it never left. This ancient ache remains stitched to all her most precious pieces no matter the effort she puts into growing.
She doesn’t even notice when she steps up onto the first bit of incline that forms the mountain. Her mind is a thousand miles away while her heart thumps forlorn against her ribs. Virgo is only dimly aware of the change in temperature after a time, then she notices the perilous journey when she begins to stumble on the loose rocks. But any place is better than down there among the mothers and their babies. Any place could be home as long as it’s quiet and cold, matching the eternal winter of her heart.
The sun has set by the time the air grows thin around her and she’s shivering viciously from the cold. The mountain snow crunches under her hooves but still the girl continues on. She’s not immortal, she realizes, but death doesn’t loom over her as it does for others. It was there when she took her first breaths and it’ll come to claim her last someday, but her heart tells her it is not her time.
Finally she lifts her pale head and watches the stars glimmering brightly all above her. She thinks of Wishbone and wonders if she might like the view of them from here. Would the queen point out her own constellation for her?
“I try so hard to be strong, you know,” she says to anyone and no one at all. “But the hurt is always there. It’s just as sharp as the day it began.”
A tear rolls down her cheek and a half-hearted smile forms on her lips. The empty cradles, the frustrated lovers. It’s all just become too much for her.
Virgo
he confesses how long he’s looked for a place to worshipand, oh, you put him on his knees.