May 15, 2016
hemera taps my shoulder and i am a pillar of rubble piled up before the rising sun, she fills my cracks and my flaws and i do not feel quite so beyond hope she is light, she is silent, golden and hollow-boned and smelling of citrus fruits, trailing saffron feathers and silk scarves coloured noon-sky blue hemera dances, leaps, stomps across the sands of time and i must run after her before the tide comes in to wash her marks smooth, breathless and dizzy i reach for her she does not look at me when she says, in that voice like dust motes through shattered glass and crumbling temple walls, "only change is constant" -15.5.16 [to eos hemera]