and bury it before it buries me
This woman, is everything Elena is not. She is elegantly wild, like wolves howling under a moon, while Elena is the deer running madly through deep snow, so unclear of where she goes next, just knows something chases her. She is a sail, standing at the front of the ship, the sea breeze in her hair, the palomino stands to the back, stealing peeks at the shore she left behind. This woman, is everything Elena is not.
Maybe she should bow her head in shame with woman’s accusation, but instead she utters a barely audible sigh in amazement and realization. She’s right—this stranger of chains and challenges.
An emotion bleeds from her face. It falls down her golden face and it looks something like the wild rain that pours outside. She savors the different notes of their conversation, lets the taste of the drink roll over her tongue as it bites like thunder, it burns her throat like lightning. This is her communion and this stranger has led her to the alter. She mirrors her body, moving from the table, she takes a final drink and everything begins to grow fuzzy. The rain feels like shards of glass against her skin and blue eyes are not bold enough to look down to see how it has cut her and how she bleeds. Doesn't want to remember that she even can.
Elena once knew without thinking, how to dance with reckless abandon. It was the way she raced with Lilli across the ancient emerald carpet of Paraiso. The scent of summer filled her lungs, intensifying the heat of life that raced through their veins like young fire. They race because they can, they run just because, before a time when they will long for longer legs, for broader bodies, sharper minds, stronger hearts.
She can almost hear the echo of laughter as she blinks in Zahra’s direction. Her skin itches with the memory. She bites her bottom lip. It tastes like a thundering waterfall she hasn't seen in so long.
‘If you want to remember, you should come to Denocte’s lake one night and watch the stars from there.’ His voice echoes in her head as she watches when the strange woman first steps out back into the rain.
And she decides, maybe today, may tonight, and clear on till morning—she doesn't want to remember anything.
Elena pockets photographs of memories she once held and steps into the storm, pretending she has never seen one before. She is at Zahra’s side, looks into her eyes, eyes that look like amber gold, like a father that she pretends she never had, that she pretends never died, only for tonight, only during this storm. “I’m coming with you,” she says, and the words taste something like the fate of a girl Elena wont recognize come tomorrow. “Teach me.”
And into the storm—they leap.
Maybe she should bow her head in shame with woman’s accusation, but instead she utters a barely audible sigh in amazement and realization. She’s right—this stranger of chains and challenges.
An emotion bleeds from her face. It falls down her golden face and it looks something like the wild rain that pours outside. She savors the different notes of their conversation, lets the taste of the drink roll over her tongue as it bites like thunder, it burns her throat like lightning. This is her communion and this stranger has led her to the alter. She mirrors her body, moving from the table, she takes a final drink and everything begins to grow fuzzy. The rain feels like shards of glass against her skin and blue eyes are not bold enough to look down to see how it has cut her and how she bleeds. Doesn't want to remember that she even can.
Elena once knew without thinking, how to dance with reckless abandon. It was the way she raced with Lilli across the ancient emerald carpet of Paraiso. The scent of summer filled her lungs, intensifying the heat of life that raced through their veins like young fire. They race because they can, they run just because, before a time when they will long for longer legs, for broader bodies, sharper minds, stronger hearts.
She can almost hear the echo of laughter as she blinks in Zahra’s direction. Her skin itches with the memory. She bites her bottom lip. It tastes like a thundering waterfall she hasn't seen in so long.
‘If you want to remember, you should come to Denocte’s lake one night and watch the stars from there.’ His voice echoes in her head as she watches when the strange woman first steps out back into the rain.
And she decides, maybe today, may tonight, and clear on till morning—she doesn't want to remember anything.
Elena pockets photographs of memories she once held and steps into the storm, pretending she has never seen one before. She is at Zahra’s side, looks into her eyes, eyes that look like amber gold, like a father that she pretends she never had, that she pretends never died, only for tonight, only during this storm. “I’m coming with you,” she says, and the words taste something like the fate of a girl Elena wont recognize come tomorrow. “Teach me.”
And into the storm—they leap.
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@"Al'Zahra"
![[Image: ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db...0iFb4PvyXE]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/8026a53b-dc57-41ab-b574-9f8a8fe57ce4/ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db0780.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzgwMjZhNTNiLWRjNTctNDFhYi1iNTc0LTlmOGE4ZmU1N2NlNFwvZGR2b3R3ZS01OTMwMmJhNi02YTgxLTQ3YmYtOTg0Ni0zMGM1YTVkYjA3ODAucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.ujCJH7FAbsQhfZlQniMmEd_vw-VmvaTDn0iFb4PvyXE)
let's light this house on fire
we'll dance in the warmth of its blaze
pixel made by the amazing star
