There are no eyes, presently, to open; instead it is an awareness in turning stars that twist in a new direction, a pattern that shifts and shifts again, mirroring and not mirroring the way her name underscores home and then loss, as well, and reunion if not, not quite reunification.
(His nearness was at the edge of things, closer but still distant and that is their doing, to be rendered deaf to him, it is some fault of their own that she hadn't seen as she believes she would have thousands of years before.)
You came.
There is no surprise; a lingering sorrow, a regret, a fierce joy and satisfaction. But no shock.
no subject
There are no eyes, presently, to open; instead it is an awareness in turning stars that twist in a new direction, a pattern that shifts and shifts again, mirroring and not mirroring the way her name underscores home and then loss, as well, and reunion if not, not quite reunification.
(His nearness was at the edge of things, closer but still distant and that is their doing, to be rendered deaf to him, it is some fault of their own that she hadn't seen as she believes she would have thousands of years before.)
You came.
There is no surprise; a lingering sorrow, a regret, a fierce joy and satisfaction. But no shock.