Humanity’s most encapsulating muse since creation has been the earth. Imagine the roaring sea dormant, or a mountain transparent. Think of nature’s greatest forces captured in absolute flatness, yet they appear to float before the eyes.
The girls made of dance, swaddled in blue, anxiously await the ballet. While they rest behind the wine drapes, a different performance begins. Each girl sways to the rhythm of her own preparation hymn.
“But the Monarch? Alas, the Monarch sat alone on the cold stone floor, their flowing robes covering the entire chancel. They ran their hand along the fine fur that kept them warm through so many winters and unnecessarily made them boil through so many ceremonies. All snow white with black spots.”