It’s not a lie when I say
I've known such tears before. Yours,
mine and theirs. Those tears know me
too. I wear one hollowed on my finger. A circle of salt screaming of betrothed. The sun’s hidden midnight, living below
horizon and sea. A church of thorn and
mirror beneath the blue. Mira, you gave
me your name. So that you would look
back at me every time I face myself. Too
much, and not enough. Fairest and true. I've known sorrow, my darling. Ways and ladies of sorrow. Every binding. Every bitter wraith.
Apprentice, I beg you. Pretty my devastation with all the glamour of peace. That one day you might know me once
more through softest eyes. I've lost so
many lovers in this river of the thousand stars. Make a Father of me again. This wounded ray of sunlight dipped in
ink. Forever falling into an angel's
longest nights.
Teach me sweeter secrets, Mira. An endless hunger for honour. A hidden tongue of birds. Gift me with flight
and I shall bring the skies with me. And
the grey, and the rain. To the door of
any who dare defile my beloved ones.
Love is worth my drowning and the agony of
this open eye.
Indeed.
If character is fate then hammer me upon the
anvil of life itself, until this fury of mine is fit for daughters and
dreaming. It isn't enough to rage,
righteous or not. Torment must be
tempered with a certain sweetness. I
have borrowed enough of it from my girls. Time now to repay. A place to believe, for guardian eternal. Of poetry and prosper. Descending, still, into those longest nights
of the year. And you’re with me,
Mira. No man is an island. Not even the blackened sun. I didn't forget you, teacher. I gave you my name.
Very nice.
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