nights are the worst in winter, when the snow whirls around the building. the air is clean, fresh, hurts to breathe. just a drop of perfume is necessity.
the earth wavers under foot. to my left, there's a line of trees - steady, sturdy. to my right there's darkness, a void faltering in the night. straight ahead - who can tell?
unwind a sheet of plain white paper, look inside the box - too eager. it's not decorated, but it is not without meaning. look a little closer.
cinderella stands, straightening her posture. brushes down her dress, checking for grime - age old gesture carrying over. (no need: she has professional cleaners on speed-dial)
steal power from uneven sources, climb a tower and throw lightning bolts trying to exceed a limit. dance in a storm, feel electricity crackle around your body. (the limit is your own imposed perception)
imagine that we are the same, so identically drawn from the same fabric. pull a mask on, overwrite yourself; i'll refrain, for now. who do you see now? how do you differentiate?
faraway, to the left, the doppelganger stands. to the right awaits the ghost of a shared ancestress. carved cruelty and gently etched patience - distinct, blurring; drawn lines become indistinguishable.
it happens in reverse. first, blue fades out, darkening purple - flash of purple, then infinite deep darkness. second, purple stretches over the horizon; repeat as often as needed.
see here: the earth, warped mountains flipped, the sky's stalactites, and oceans frozen above. tread carefully on the sky, brush your fingers over stars and watch for the moon setting.
you told me always: tiny vial of potion, glittering, enticing - too tempting to turn down. too easy (foolish) to reach out, wrap clumsy fingers around thin glass. (the elixir sparkled, burned going down; burned away all your lies about always.)