For The Death of the Sun
I used to watch you dance.
Alone under the spotlight of the stage, when you thought nobody was watching, when you were supposed to be sweeping.
Your face lit up like a child's in the sun, hair billowing past your waist as you spun around and around, until dizziness overcame you and you fell to the floor in a heap, silent as always but that smile on your face...I couldn't make you happy. God only knows I tried. I tried to join you. Where did you go then? I couldn't follow you, not into the bright judgement of day. There, you danced alone, as the sun came up around you. It rose and set for you alone.
Was it the right choice? To leave the troupe? The only family we've had for so long? You weren't any help in deciding. You just stared at the floor and agreed with everything I said, like an idiot. You weren't an idiot, why did you have to act like one? Why didn't you try to stop me?
Of course, you never did. You trusted me with your life.
I buried you this morning, little sister. On the ridge where the sun sets, where the snow was melted away and the flowers came up. Tiny periwinkle blooms, they reminded me of you. Of your eyes...your lips. You turned so dark and cold. And the sun went behind the clouds, I thought...
I thought maybe you were sleeping.
You weren't.
I'm going down the hill now, little sister.
I should cry for you.
But guess what?
I can't.
The sun is coming up.