Blotched like ink on silk, the sky was a collection of black feathers
Before a fire glow cluster of embers.
Pools of water nestled in cupped eye sockets, blinking them away strained the lights into flowers and daggers, stretched the tendons of these forever fires.
Autumn realised the sky wouldn’t change no matter how many tears fled her. there was no altering the songs these stars had so long sung. All that she knew could be a lie because she heard it in a dream? …