22-6-12
There is two of me, the fae and the weaver. The ethereal one smiles and
weeps in childlike swings, not graceful but wanting to be, yearning for
mysteries and shrinking back in fear of Pandora’s Box. Is it hiding hope
or despair? The weaver is calm, she creates, she cuts away what she does
not need and shows her work to others. She is fierce, sober-eyed and
dances with her shadow.
They stand back to back, learning their secretes and coming together.
They will be mostly one someday, bearing the scars that were once bars, the
grace theirs to master, the blade and box theirs to bear with knowing
smile. Theirs is the mystery, the dance, the calm joy. They – we –
I am worthy of this prize.
-
Cassie
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