She’ll forgive the stars when she gets there.

Right now it’s rocks and shoots and things with roots,

but she’ll get there.

She’s caught in the tangled trill of the underground,

turning over the same stones, tripping over the same branches,

but she’ll look up.

She will get there.

Sometimes the earth is thick on our hands.

And sometimes we hold ourselves so tightly,

that all we can hear is the blood in our ears.

That’s how it is with her.

She’s letting go of the hard stuff, the vices in her face.

She’s getting lighter.

Pushing past the pain.

She’ll float there.

And she’ll forgive the stars when she gets there.

<3

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