There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!
-Emily Dickinson
Stand, moving only with the breeze.
Green, soft feathers brush the skin, and whisper...
This is the smell of her hair.
A snap, a footfall, a muffled voice making desperate promises, while the heartbeat in your chest does the same.
Let it wash away.
Let it slide from you like smoke through a wire screen.
Let it settle and slip until you are clean again.
And the thirsty earth...
She drinks.
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