|Screaming loud enough to turn back the wind. (whatawaytoburn) wrote,|
You want to move like that, you want to dance.
but your limbs are still heavy and your movements jerky and awkward. You may want to dance tat way, may want to let your body be twirled by the wind but it's not meant to be, at least not yet. This is all too new, too strange. Your heartbeat still frightens you sometimes and wen someone touches you and you jump, you're still not sure what to make of it.
But she doesn't mind tat, she doesn't mind that you are awkward in your own skin, the skin you didn't have that long ago. She doesn't mind tat you are still colder tan she is. She doesn't even mind the way you watch her, study her becuase she's beautiful and you think that maybe, just maybe, if you can capture half that beauty, you'll be all right, you'll be close to being what you are supposed to be in this body.
She dances toward you, her smile so wide and welcoming, and she takes your hands, pulling you forward. You stumble, unsure of what she's doing and not entirely sure you want to participate. You're better as an observer, as someone who watches and studies and admires. You're not meant to dance yet, your legs are still too unsteady.
But she doesn't care, that's more ta obvious. She pulls you forward, twirls you about. You two dance in the desert light, laughing and singing and spinning under the moon. It is awkward, strange even, but it doesn't matter because it feels good. This feels like what you should be doing, this feels right.
There's a patch of moonlight not far away and if you look at it out of the corner of your eye, you think you see something, the ghost of a woman who smiles upon you both as you dance. She looks like she is pleased, happy to have you dance under her light and you find yourself relieved.
If the moon thinks you're doing it right, if she believes that your movements aren't a complete failure, then perhaps they aren't, perhaps this is what you're supposed to be doing.