Waiting for the sun

She turned away

and millions of thoughts rained down upon her. “Who am I now?” She thought wildly

and an answer, though transient, always remained the same-

she was separated. By time, by

the pasts of others clanging together like metal.Β 

Sharp edges- she knows this can be no longer.

The dawn of something to be new felt old, because the pattern was an unfriendly ghost.

She would live to tell many tales. Naked from yesterday down, she lets her exposure hit the cold air.

There is no forgetting, only love, and only time.

And finally, the promise of Spring.




One Reply to “Waiting for the sun”

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