A New Rhythm

Soft, hushed, and covered in visions from the night she opened into warm, velvet heartbeats. It was the first time the sun had smiled in a long while, or at least that she had noticed. 

Still and porcelain she could feel pale, pink petals laying themselves one by one on her bones, their fragrance seeping into the tiny holes that once kept marrow.

They laid themselves, delicate and light, over wet, gaping wounds raw, ugly and forgotten. 

They pressed into webs and knots, loosening her new hands and leaving the taste of perfume on her tongue behind her nose. 

Even in their softness they sat with dying, black, sticky things that formed in the corners of her body without her knowing. They touched the darkness that crept out only in disguises or in the shape of heartbreak.

One by one everything that would not live within the new rhythm of her heart melted away. Some disappeared into the thick mud by the river, smothering themselves into another world entirely. 

Every morning, dew would gather behind her eyes, dripping down her spinal cord leaving beads of water to wait on the serpents head.  

Eventually waxy green shoots will pierce her skin, stretching outward to finally feel the air; searching for the sun. Thorns will come, pushing out and curving downward like talons to protect the sleeping buds. Thick roots will twist themselves around her ribcage leading her bones into the ground. 

Soon all anyone will see is cluster of rose where there once stood a girl.  

Soon all anyone will feel is the hiss of a white serpent before it disappears into the grass.

 

 

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