sometimes i wonder, will god ever forgive us for what we've done to each other?
B E T H L E H E M
then i look around and realize, god left this place a long time ago
He had so desperately wanted something worth remembering.
And she had given it to him, so completely.
If only he had known.
If only he had known that it would shake him from his sleep.
That he would look for her in every face that passed.
That he would wake with the shape of her name branded on the surface of his tongue.
He moved with a purpose in the aftermath. He was no longer chasing something but vehemently running from it. Running from the warm that had spread through him when she’d laid her cheek to rest along the ridge of his spine, pressed her chest against his until he could feel the persistent flutter of the heartbeat underneath. Running from the terrible softness that had threatened to consume him.
And perhaps she is the reason for his sudden, bone-deep desire to grow roots. He has not seen her in months, though he would be lying if he were to claim that he has not looked. How desperately he has looked, delirious. There is some small part of him, too, that thinks that it was merely a fever dream. But, whatever the reason, he had wandered away from the safety of his shore and into the murky depths of Taiga and he had stayed.
He contains his restless wandering to this spit of land now. But his movement is near-constant, driven by the hum of kinetic energy in his limbs. It is in his mindless wandering that he catches sight of her. Like a phantom, just out of the corner of his eye. He stops, his pulse spiking.
He turns his head slow, as if he does not trust that she will not dissolve into the fog should he move too quickly. But there she stands, even after he has tried to blink her away. He drags in a thick, shuddering breath as he stares at her across all that negative space, the yawning chasm between them.
He opens his mouth to speak, but no sound comes out.
|
|
