Status: complete
Stokkseyri
Red Thread
I never lost sight of your heart - the kind of prize I would hold with two hands as I fell, on shaking knees, to the inevitable bliss of melancholia. This is the kind of chemical change that takes my cells, turgid with your hands and eyes and knock-knees, and shakes them until they fizz and bubble in the depth of my stomach.
When your eyes meet mine, I feel the Earth as it turns and the ants as they swarm. And in every heart, I am sure, exists this little death - but it is your own peach-stone that I would consume, the endless summer of your beating pulse. As you fall further away from me, still I will pull you in closer and closer, until the fishing-line that connects my heart to your hands finds its own natural fault. Until you are lost to me forever, I would like to keep you safe under the sinews of my wings.
Even when you are gone, I will sing to you in the stars and night wind. Listen.
When your eyes meet mine, I feel the Earth as it turns and the ants as they swarm. And in every heart, I am sure, exists this little death - but it is your own peach-stone that I would consume, the endless summer of your beating pulse. As you fall further away from me, still I will pull you in closer and closer, until the fishing-line that connects my heart to your hands finds its own natural fault. Until you are lost to me forever, I would like to keep you safe under the sinews of my wings.
Even when you are gone, I will sing to you in the stars and night wind. Listen.