Juniper
hang my heart at the bottom of the sea
The world is made of water. Large puddles, small puddles, pound upon pound of water. It is endless and it is blue.
Juniper is made of water, too. Her heart is red and beating, heated when it should be cold and frigid. She stands in a field of blue that is not water but made of stalk and bud. Forget-me-not flowers, like every reminder that flashes in the night, wink up to her with their bright, shining eyes. They are pearls between her teeth when she pulls one, and then another and another from its stem.
They fall, crushed, to the ground. Their water seeps from their skin. Her water cannot join the earth so easily.
Juniper tries not to look to the couples that laugh. El Rey makes her laugh and he has been gone for months. Run. Leave. Flee. He’d forced her hand, losing himself in a bloodthirsty crowd before she could wrap herself about him and plant herself as a thorn in his side so that they might not part so quickly.
It infuriated her.
And yet...Juniper does not know how to stay angry. She only knows how to love and love and love as a cup brimming over. It spills into the world as rain from the clouds. And in her field of blue as day fades to dusk, she sighs and pulls another petal, praying Vespera will grant her mercy soon.
"He loves me, he loves me not…” She whispers into the bustling field of laughter and life and all that is not hers.
