Daaaaaamn 8O - Tumblr Posts

I am not a warrior. My hands are soft and smooth; my feet, bare, tread unsteadily across cold moss and jagged stone. My hair is not coarse, and before today it fell in thick, shining waves over my shoulders. Now it is roped and twisted and braided with bright things and shining things, cold against my temples, glittering in the corners of my eyes. All my life I have known honey and music. I sat still to be painted and listened to songs that swooped low like the valleys where I was born, high like the hill where I would be sent. I ate cakes whose sweetness could not hide their bitterness, and ached in my throat when I swallowed too large a bite. My mouth grows heavy with my purpose and water flows from it as it flows from the skies to the seas. The trees chant and dance. The sky bulges down with want. My tongue hangs panting. My eyes are a half smile of moon. Here my song begins, in what voices are still left to me. I sing as my feet drag. I sing when my hands become wet with dew. I sing as I am lifted and carried, as to a marriage bed. The heat of my skin touches the cold of the stone and I feel the moment of the last virginal part of me, drawn out taut. The prayers that wash over me lave me of unworthiness. My song reaches a crescendo. Here I will succeed; here I will achieve; here is completion; here is victory. The blade’s thrust into my body takes my breath with it, billowing from me as steam. Into the unyielding stone I give movement. Into the frigid waters I give warmth. Into the barren earth I give beauty. Into the furious sky I give love. I am not a warrior. But I have brought peace. And I am become of the gods.