Magic is what happens when the sun rises Magic is what happens when the birds chirp Magic is what happens when I roll over to see her beautiful face
Her hair spread against the pillow, Her face shadowed with the breaks in the curtains Her body covered with the fluffy clouds of the comforter.
She reminds me of a roaring sea, Her gentle strength as she arises from the sheets Her gentle strength as she smiles, even after everything that has happened to her Her gentle strength as she commands a room full of people that she could be afraid of
She reminds me of a roaring sea, Her eyes that are waves with both the sea and the crest swirling within Her back and how it expands with every deep breath Her hair curly and rippling in the wind
Magic is within her
The cold wind blew in my face as I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran. Time was irrelevant in the middle of this cold forest. What month was it? Where was this forest? Long gone are the August days from which I was snatched. The cold means that it must’ve been months that I was with the beast. The monster who growled and I never fully saw. Was it even human? I doubt it. As soon as these thoughts pass through my head they disappear into the crunch of branches and leaves that follow me. I glance backwards and there it is. Covered in fur running full speed at me. I speed up just a little bit. I can tell that it is not yet willing to catch me as soon the branches behind me stop breaking momentarily. It fills me with relief but I don’t slow down. Maybe it is letting me free. Maybe it doesn’t want to catch me as it is done with me. But then the branches start to break again and that relief sinks into the snow. I must keep running. I must make it out. My lungs are cold and sore, the wind chafes my thighs, I can see my breath in-front of me. I feel myself involuntarily slowing down. My body burns from the cold. I can’t do this much longer. I wish for it to stop, but it doesn’t. Why would it stop before and not now? It is going to catch me any second. Isn’t that not what it wanted? But as I continue to slow I feel it’s claws dig into my back. There is no more running, maybe I can still fight? But as I fall into my back I look at it’s face. This creature is not human. The manic eyes and hair covering its face doesn’t bring be relief. Its claws dig into my shoulders and I finally get full relief as the corners of my eyes dance with the dark and slowly that darkness wins and the beast faded out of view.
