how does it feel to explore? how does it feel to be out and about? how does it feel to be among those who has been freed to a higher incarceration? how does it feel to glide through the air with chains gripping to your wings?
i bet it feels nice. at least it's better than this. just one more year and i'll be there. maybe not with you, but with the sky.
did you hurt? was their pain in your chest that blossomed into agony that seized your nervous system and gnawed at your limbs? have you cured it? did you pat it with water? did you drink a bottle of rubbing alcohol? did you bandage it? i cannot know since i have left your bones to piece themselves and i have left your lungs to function themselves and i have left your heart to beat itself.
are there others? are they also honey girl rose? are they more like river woman crimson? does she piece your bones and function your lungs and beat your heart? does she dance with more hips? does she end more gracefully? if she's there, maybe she does. i am glad.
how about me, you say. i am okay (or, i should be by now). i glide with the ocean and i already have an escape plan. the sky is too high and i want to be closer to gaia. the moon is to blame, but i cannot wield resentment at her. have i found a dancer? i do not know. maybe my brain hasn't processed or seen or heard. i just want a dancer. right now, i wish it was you.
your presence cannot be restored with a shrine or a temple or a church or a prayer. the fire feels colder, or maybe it's just the gloom within me. i take skittles like pain pills and you're kind to not haunt my sleep. i have built a dam for the river in my spinel chest. the water is all crumpled up navy fusing with black and i feel so close to solid melancholy.
we're still united, but not in shakespearian love because that is weakness. we are united in kindness. we are united as allied nations. we are united in experience.
don't leave.
