Photo by Sian MacfarlaneI found the dead magpie a week ago.
The sun set in time lapse.
Cinders dispersed themeselves in sweeping, honey-grey plumes, thickly spread over the sky.
Jet trails sprayed out from a nearby airport, unceremoniously slicing the brilliant blue iris, over and over.
I could pinpoint this limbo, a place between worlds.
::End/Begin::
The day itself did not exist, but it was still managing to stare me right between the eyes, full on and gleaming.
The earth turned itself inside out, and I could see everything and everyone more clearly; condensed in watery gold, curled up in smoking embers.
Heartbeats in a womb.
Lillies still in the air.
Ashes are even more beautiful through tears.
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