the house over the river and through the forest

Letter in the sky, letter in the air, letter from your hand flew in through my window. 

It lands gently on the table, but the dust fills the entire room. 

I stare at it. Sitting on the ground, my hair touching the floor, my clothing worn with holes. 

I stare for hours, then days. 

Who would send such a thing? How did it even get through the window? When did I even open that? 

It stares back at me. Enticing, mysterious, heavy with hope. 

I move to stand. My joints crack. My muscles weak. 

I reach the table, sit on top of it, stare at the letter some more. 

The ink on the page bleeds in some places.

I pick it up. I open it. I cut my fingers with the thin edges. I bleed. The paper bleeds some more. 

My name stands tall at the top.

I stop.

My name. Me. Me? 

You write to see me. You write an invitation to go beyond the wall. You write about the butterflies that crown the wildflowers and the sweet smell of the yellow bushes and the bright stars in the immense blackness of the night. You write about magic.

Magic. Something in me stirs. It is powerful. It pulls my limbs towards the door. My hand trembles on the metal. I stand there. It gets harder to breathe. 

I think of you standing there. Just outside the wall. Waiting for me. 

I pull the door open. It hits the wall behind it. I walk, then run towards the gate. I jump over it. 

I run through the forest. The branches comb my hair. The river cleanses my body. The field places flowers in the holes on my clothing. I climb the wall. I am on the other side. 

I see you. You're real. You're here. 

I run towards you. And with every step I see you more and more. I stop. 

I can't breathe. You come closer. You hold me and tell me of the mountains and the animals and how the moon changes shape. Held by you and with the sun kissing my face, I feel magic on my skin. 

Your honey eyes remain on me. They warm me up more than the sun. I am the sun. 

You are the loveliest dream. 

You stay with me day and night and day and night until the stirring inside me has my limbs lead you over the wall and through the field of flowers. Then the river. My holes exposed. Then the forest. It tangles my hair and darkens my exterior with its earth.

We reach the gate. The ground barren, the trees dead.

We see my house. The wood rotting and dry. The window with broken glass. Naked. 

I see it now. Who would want to enter such a place? I look at myself. Dirt on my face, dreads in my hair. Threads hanging. Who would want such a thing? 

I watch you take it all in. I see you want to leave. 

I watch you hesitate. Your feet planted firmly at the gate. Unable to move any closer. 

I stare at you, staring at the ground. Cracked. 

I brought you in beyond the wall. I let you in. 

But you are frozen. You don't look at me. You don't say anything at all. 

I am broken. I was the sun and now I am the far side of the moon. 

I grab your arms and drag you out. You are heavy, but my heart the heaviest. 

You are frozen. You remain still. You let me carry you across the river. You destroy the flowers with the dragging weight of your body. 

Finally I lift you over the wall and down to the ground. 

You stand there. I turn. You grab my arm. I look at you. You look at the ground, now covered in the greenest of grasses. I rip your arm off. I grab your head and pull your face close to mine. Your eyes on my cheeks. Never again on mine. 

"My heart is not a home for cowards." -DAF