Thalia and the Unbeginning Courtship.
by trevor-blevins
Thalia gets her knees cut out from under her.
In the cycle of daydreaming she is now at the point
Where those ideations she was having
Now smell like old moth balls
And clip the back of her head like the slightest graze
Of a spiked, sharp chain.
My sister in dismay,
I hope you will not stay in the loam for too long.
Far too brilliant to meander with me in the half-silent mourning fields...
Peel your veil back tomorrow and take a new approach.