A/N: Don't really know what this is… don't even know if it's a poem.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight, dammit! (However, I do own a very hyperactive imagination which gets me into trouble regularly.)

now darkness falls:

the sky is deep blue, blue as longing

and yearning comes upon me;

i start to wander

hesitantly, then closer, closer

towards the forest –

feet, why did you bring me here? –

wind moving in the trees

sounds like song of the sea.

i kick off my shoes

and walk barefoot,

my feet jewelled by raindrops,

into the strange familiar shelter of the trees.

green around me:

somewhere instinctive inside me,

green means life.

trees' branches are graceful,

reaching pleadingly towards the sky.

wind in my hair,

rain on my skin, sinking into it,

coming alive beneath it, making me alive.

i reach down to the ferns

and plunge my arms into their cool softness –

hair-fine and gently, so gentle.

i stand up

and breathe in, breathe out,

and i am me

the forest is me

i am the forest

my breath is rain-scented air

my hair is a billion wind-ruffled leaves

my heartbeat is the pulse of the trees

my feet are rooted to the damp ground.

that is when i see her.

she is tall, lean

with skin the colour of yew bark in winter

and hair like crow's feathers,

and something about her says broken.

she pulls off her clothes

but it seems natural, part of this

strange, familiar forest:

i envy her to have nothing keeping her skin

from the rain, the rain.

she begins to shake,

and i want to place a hand on her shoulder and still her trembles.

then what should be impossible happens

and i wonder

why am i not shocked?

why do i feel so calm about this?

why does her wolf-self fit so well

into this forest known-yet-unknown?

the werewolf girl runs away

and i let out a sigh – of what?

relief, sorrow, i do not know.

then back out of the forest

and on with the shoes

and leave the lovely cool wet longing-blue evening

and pray it stays in my memory


stay, please




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