French Christmas

Unnecessary Shrines

We put so much time in, grinding our bones down to paste, using it to bind the reeds and the fibers of this house. Then you caught the scent of a summer breeze and sailed on like cottonweed, blowing out the windows and the candles on your way. Now the curtains float empty and aimless in their frames, ghosts with nowhere to be, no one to haunt. So I think I'll burn our house down and wear the ashes on my forehead.

Reconnaissance

Back behind the borders, I prepare for hostile country. I listen to the birds scream in the trees and I camouflage my face and unpack my war weapons. And I wait. And I wait. And I wait. And while the moments march by like soliders, I accidentally lay down my head and fall asleep under new stars.

Instincts

I come at you with soft footsteps and a palm full of sugar cubes. This is not what you are used to; your nostrils flare and the whites of your eyes roll and your ears twitch flat against the sides of your head. I put my hand on your neck and it’s soaked through with salt, the fear rolls off your body like heat lightning.

Some days we just stand there, you shifting your weight under my hand, trying to find your footing, me trying to give it to you.

Some days you buck and bare your teeth and all I can do is sit on the railing of the paddock and watch.

Practice

I’ve gotten so good at coming here when my hand is shaking. I need to remember how to be here when it’s steady.

 

 

The Bright Spot

We went to war. For years. I think we bridged a shaky truce and now, in my hand, you look so small and harmless, the most docile pearl, waiting to be claimed and strung and worn around my neck.

I don’t know why I’m still fearing your earthquakes.

#Reverb12: Bonus

Where are you now?

And I thought I had it all figured out, but the smallest mountain was still there, tugging at my skirts, knocking loudly at the gates to be received. I kept my gaze up when I should have been looking down – it was no surprise when I tripped and fell and split my eye right open.

But in all that haze of blood, there was the smallest clear spot.

#Reverb12: 31

 

Day 31: What can you celebrate NOW?

Merge the past, present, and future into one big ARRIVAL. For a moment, take a close look at who you are NOW. See what you can declare. 

 

With feathers and fangs and talons, everything she needs, she places one paw over the threshold of the looking glass. She needs no trumpets but she pauses, waits for me to motion her forward.

 

I take my time because in all of my story books, I’ve never seen anything quite like her. I can’t stop looking. I’m afraid if I breathe she will shatter and cease to exist.

 

She looks at me with her jeweled eyes,

 

Duh. I was here all along.

#Reverb12: 30

 

Day 30: Have you heard your word?

 

She chose me. She whispered:

Don’t force it. Don’t blow a knee. Don’t break the window trying to open the door. You’ll just cut your hands or sever an artery. Rest your head in my lap instead. Do you work, and let me do mine. All you have to do, is try.

What the heck is this Reverb12 business? Find out here. I'm catching up, slowly, but the good news is I'm finally answer the prompts in order again! (Small victories.) I'll probably be working my way through the rest of these into the New Year, focusing on the forward-looking prompts in January.

#Reverb12: 29

 

How will you overcome *those* fears?

You sit in a big gold throne, jewel-studded. You are so cold you glisten. I put you there. I gave you your crown and your staff. But that means I can wrap my hands around your velvet robe and pull it right out from under you.

What the heck is this Reverb12 business? Find out here. I'm catching up, slowly, but the good news is I'm finally answer the prompts in order again! (Small victories.) I'll probably be working my way through the rest of these into the New Year, focusing on the forward-looking prompts in January.

#Reverb12: 28

 How will you honor your creativity?

 

By lamplight, with slow steady fingers, not rushing, not pounding, not furious, no backlight, no fluorescence. The light will be soft and I’ll hold the pen to empty paper and fall asleep remembering what it’s like to trace out stories by hand.

What the heck is this Reverb12 business? Find out here. I'm catching up, slowly, but the good news is I'm finally answer the prompts in order again! (Small victories.) I'll probably be working my way through the rest of these into the New Year, focusing on the forward-looking prompts in January.