Work Text:
And then we will meet, meet, and meet once more, under the soft-dwindling sun, amidst the endless sands that spill from horizon to mountain and back again, windswept and temper-tossed, though no true tempest has beset this land, the land parched and flowing with other fabrics than water—the gathering of such carnelian dyed thread fitting the moment a star shatters from the mountain—and we will sing together as bird-shapes that flit and drift together in silken clouds, gilt with sunlight and yet more sand.
And we will meet, sing, and we will part, and in that parting we will find one another and press back together with glad hearts reaching out through the chirping flight, wrapped up in twisting warp-weft across hexagon-holed looms, sigils cut into glowing stone, the heart bound in each trek that we make: together, together, together.
And when we are collapsed and lonesome, the susurration muted and fading to the dim pale panorama, you will relax on the snow-shore of eternity and the divine fire at the peak will suck your breath from you, and you will drift away at last…or at least until we meet again.