17 januari 2012

winterrose

.

“I will give you what you want.”
I could not find my voice, only a husk of one;
it could barely pass through the fire in my throat.
I clung more tightly to his hands, and held his eyes;
I saw the first touch of icy anger struggle with his patience.
“I will leave you. I won’t trouble you any longer with my love.
But I want to give you something first.
With my love.”

“What?” he asked indifferently.

“Freedom. From me, from this house, from her wood.
I will hold you fast until you stand free of us all.
And then I will leave you.”

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