seamonster/him again

I don't know how to bring something like that to life, but I know what it feels like when it works.
If I could retrace my steps backwards, and remember every single little thing I did, in this season of falling, I don't think even then I could trace any kind of useful map, because these things always unfold through their own momentum, in their own time and space.  I think the things we do at our little altars to make something come to life are already in motion, long before we walk into the room with our robes and our candles.  But I know there are secrets that set things in motion, and if I hadn't done these secret things, I wouldn't have to pretend I didn't do them, but in truth, I did, I said your name before I knew your name, and I said it out loud in front of too many spirits who were already paying attention.  I didn't think they were watching us so closely.  But I think I understand that they were watching closely because it was already unfolding in our direction, and even though I don't know how to turn things back, I don't know if I really would, or if I really should, because your face makes me smile, and there's something here I'm supposed to learn, something I don't know yet, something waiting for me here, and when it stops being interesting for you, I'll make a prayer and blow out the candles, and I won't make a wish.  These are hard days, and I don't know why things are unfolding the way they are, and I don't see any map up ahead, all I can see are the maps we laid out behind us, the ones we unfolded when we were curious to see how these things would play out when we were awake, awake as children, making new games in a forest that already knows our secret names.  


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