Page 66 of Into the Heartless Wood
But oh, I do not want to.
Dew leaks from my eyes
and
drips
down
my
chin.
It will be better this way.
I will remember our nights on the hill
for both of us.
I shatter at the first note of my sisters’ song.
It slides through the wood,
whispers through leaves and branches,
shimmers like silver in the air.
It
will
ensnare
him.
I run
down the hill and
through the trees.
He is there in the distance,
his lantern flashing like
a star.
My sisters’ song twists into him.
He drops the lantern.
He turns.
He runs.
Toward the music,
toward my sisters,
