There at the edge of the world right is returned to me, caught on the wind and tucked safely into my arms to remain. I control the weather just as I control their hearts, here by the sea.
Apologies came swiftly once again as we stumbled into yet another year, tripping over words and misguided attempts to repair or replace broken things. Broken things like hearts, minds and promises. Rainy things like moods and nights. Ugly things like jealousy and longing and loneliness.
And we fail but then we get up and run again, clutching that sharp edge so tightly we bleed our souls out so that they run together in a river, marbled, mixed, indistinguishable once more. We finish each others' sentences, comfort each other when there is no light and find that light to pass along, when necessary.
Here at the edge of the world left is the open arms, the open doors, the open minds of that marbled river, the tides rising and falling with need. The hearts breathing like lungs, rising and falling with emotions, sheared clean by that edge once again.
But they grow back.
There at the edge is where she stands. Where she bleeds. Where she cries. Where she grieves. Where she loves.
Apologies came swiftly once again as we stumbled into yet another year, tripping over words and misguided attempts to repair or replace broken things. Broken things like hearts, minds and promises. Rainy things like moods and nights. Ugly things like jealousy and longing and loneliness.
And we fail but then we get up and run again, clutching that sharp edge so tightly we bleed our souls out so that they run together in a river, marbled, mixed, indistinguishable once more. We finish each others' sentences, comfort each other when there is no light and find that light to pass along, when necessary.
Here at the edge of the world left is the open arms, the open doors, the open minds of that marbled river, the tides rising and falling with need. The hearts breathing like lungs, rising and falling with emotions, sheared clean by that edge once again.
But they grow back.
There at the edge is where she stands. Where she bleeds. Where she cries. Where she grieves. Where she loves.