cygnoir.net

cygnoir.net

excused

“What it must be,” she began and paused, hands lifting like feathers. “What it must be like, to be that …”

“Free?” he answered. “Light? Unencumbered?”

She thought a moment, then tilted her head and shrugged. “Quiet?”

He reached to cup her elbow without a thought; he had to touch her. She did not resist. Her forearm dropped onto his. They stood like that, facing each other, one arm to one arm, for a long time and did not speak or look into each other’s eyes.

She broke the silence with a cough, then: “Don’t bury me.”

“I wouldn’t,” he answered, eyes dropping into the dark soil around the gleaming capsule. “I won’t.”

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.

∞