(no subject)

[dredpiratebunny]

the wind picks up
moving through the space between her ankles
curling cat-like into the small of her back
in her skin lies mythical beasts
fighting for fresh air
chipping the stone off her hands

this backwards carousel slowing down
her horse rising and falling less

tide moving back to sea
seaweed hands letting go
leaving her free to trace the stars onto the sand
polaris, vega, forgotten galaxies
palmed into her hands
they blink like fireflies

she prays for the will of tornadoes
for rain to wash her clean
she aches to move again
for the quiet that it brings